Silence
by ThePhantomsChristineDaae
Summary: A young homeless girl is rescued from a vicious assault. The turtles take her in, much to one of their number's dismay... And her own. She doesn't talk. Is she hiding something?
1. Little Lamb

**DISCLAIMER: First off, I need to mention that this story more closely follows the moves, not the cartoons. Characters will resemble more closely those from the movies. And I'm talking the first two. I'm pretending the third didn't happen... Secondly, I don't own the turtles. However, I may express my creative license and make them act a little more to my liking. I do own Marlowe and her back story and the characters involved in it.**

Sunrise was a little more than an hour away but already the bakery was buzzing with activity. New loafs being prepared, yesterdays left overs being thrown in a trash bag. In the alley, a handful of homeless ragamuffins crouched against the wall or stood leaning anxiously toward the back door. Every morning at 5:00 am, like clockwork, the baker's assistant walked through that door to take out the previous day's trash. Only he never threw it all out. He was a thin, scraggly man with a few too many teeth missing, but the warmth in his heart more than made up for his physical appearance.

As the door opened, those squatting amid the trash clambered to their feet and the small mob closed around the door. The baker's assistant, Murry by name, squeezed out with a grin. "Here ya go, fellahs. Got a couple of doughnuts left. Here's a french roll..." If Murry's boss ever caught him handing out free rolls, whether they were being thrown out or not, he would end up just like the rest of the lot he fed. But Murry had a soft heart, so every morning the group gathered. Every morning, one by one, they left with what was perhaps the only food they'd see all day.

After the last had gone, Murry ducked back inside. After a short moment he appeared again, a loaf of sourdough in one hand and a hunk of cheese in the other. "Little Lamb?" He called softly, looking around. A shadow moved from behind the dumpster and he smiled. "There you are. For a second I was afraid you hadn't come." He leaned back against the closed door as the shadow approached.

She was a skinny little thing, all skin and bones, but somehow she still managed to radiate grace. Dirty hair hung just past her shoulders, here and there a light yellow-white cream color peeking through the grime. It was obvious the girl tried to take care of her hair; it wasn't quite as matted as most of the other homeless. Her smile as she reached Murry also shone in large, round eyes the color of milky jade. Her hands reached out, porcelain skin contrasting greatly with Murry's calloused tan hands.

"If you're careful, Little Lamb, that could last you all day. But then," he grinned, showing all his missing teeth. "You already know that by now, huh?" Clutching her prize to her chest, she smiled up at him. Head shaking he turned to go, looking over his shoulder at her. Sixteen, maybe. Maybe a year less or more, by his guess. "I wish you would let me help more, ya know? Not knowing where you're gonna sleep..." She shook her head at him. Like she did every day.

"I know I know... I do enough already." She reached up and patted his cheek, always smiling. "Breaks my heart to know you're out there alone... But I suppose you're doin' alright if you're still coming here every day." Murry took her hand in both of his and patted it gently. So frail.. She seemed so frail. "If you ever do need anything, just ask ol' Murry and he'll get it for ya." She nodded, taking her hand back and turning to go.

She glanced over her shoulder once to see Murry disappear back into the bakery. He was a good man. There was no doubt about that. But she couldn't stay in one place for too long. She looked like her mother. Word might spread and then Murry, sweet kind hearted Murry, would be in danger. She shook her head as she walked, nibbling on the cheese. Yes... The cheese she'd eat now before it went to waste. The bread she'd save through out the day.

Sighing, she started down the stairs to the underground subway. Just past 5:30. Not too busy yet. She had time to find her hiding place before the business men and women of New York were swarming the platforms. At the edge of the platform, she paused, listening one way then the other. Satisfied that there were no near by trains, she nodded and jumped lightly off the platform. Always careful not to touch the rails, she took off down the tunnel at a swift walk. In less than 5 minutes she found what she was looking for. A small alcove off to the side, big enough for a grown man to enter only slightly stooped. The alcove led to a rusted, old, metal door slightly ajar. It was an old service tunnel no longer in use. It was the perfect hiding place.

After making sure the door was shut firmly behind her, she started down the corridor. There was no light here, but her eyes adjusted quickly and well enough for her to know where she was going. Her feet had traveled this corridor hundreds of times, bare toes and heels knew every inch, so she was not fully paying attention to where she was walking. Something troubled her. She could not remember leaving the door open. She supposed it was possible, but she always closed it before leaving. Deep in thought, she didn't notice the man in front of her until she nearly ran into him.

He was a big man, and had the unkempt look of someone only recently pushed to the streets. He smelled heavily of alcohol and sported a crooked nose that spoke of many fights and brawls. "I knew someone lived down here. I was hopin' for some one to steal from. Never expected something as pretty as you." He took a wobbly step toward her as she stepped back, clutching the bread and cheese as if they were her very life. "You might be my ticket back out of this mess. Yeah... I think you'd catch a pretty penny up there." He made a grab for her, but she ducked, his hand just brushing her shoulder.

Desperately she tried to scramble away from him. There was a hole in the wall only a few feet from her. If she could get there, he wouldn't be able to reach her. She had the bread and cheese. She could hold out 2 or 3 days in there. By then he'd get bored and leave, right? It was the only chance she had. A chance that looked grim when she felt a strong grip on her ankle. Refusing to lose her meal, she turned to her back and kicked out with her uncaught foot, trusting on luck to guide her foot to some vulnerable spot. A crunch and a grunt told her the man's nose would be bent the other way for a while. But his grip only loosened a bit. Not enough for her escape.

"Fiesty. I like that." He growled at her, using his grip on her ankle to pull her closer. "But you're going to pay for that." A thick hand wound around her throat and, forgetting the bread and cheese, she started thrashing. She kicked wildly, several times her bare feet connected with something soft. All her effort got her was a tighter grip on her throat and a few indignant grunts from her attacker. Spots started swarming her vision as she futilely clawed at his hand. She had to have been causing some damage; his hand felt warm and wet where her nails dug long gashes. He didn't let up though, and as blackness crawled in around the corners of her vision, she saw him grinning down on her like a fool. A drunken fool... She thought she saw a shadow rise up behind him, but that was all she knew before blackness engulfed her.


	2. Rescued

**DISCLAIMER: More of an apology than a disclaimer... I apologize for this chapter being a complete P.O.S. Try as I might I just couldn't get it the way I wanted but I had to get it done and out there in order to push out chapter 3, which I've already started on and is already a billion times better than this one in my humble opinion... So, without further ado, Chapter 2. Again, sorry for it's lameness.**

Michelangelo took a moment to look at his handy work. The guy would wake up in an hour or so with no more than a large bump and one hell of a headache. Mikey thought it was far less than he deserved. "Sweet dreams, tubby." He said as he stepped over the man to kneel beside his victim. He could feel her chest rise and fall in slow, steady breaths. Whatever damage the man had done to her, Michelangelo didn't think it was permanent. But he wasn't a doctor and she was out cold. "Aw man... The guys are gonna kill me for this..."

With ease, he lifted her unconscious form and was momentarily surprised by just how light she was. Holding her in his arms, trying desperately not to break her fragile form, he set off down the service tunnel. Quite a distance down the tunnel, he came across a metal grate set low in the wall. Using his foot to swing it aside, Mikey ducked in. It was a sewer passage just big enough for the mutant turtle to walk through only slightly bent over. He knew this section of the sewers well, as did his brothers. It was the collection of underground pathways that would lead him back home.

At a familiar 3 way junction, Mikey slowed his pace. A few steps further he used his foot yet again with surprising dexterity to remove a cleverly disguised board laying on the ground. To a casual passerby, it simply looked like just more garbage on the sewer floor. This piece of garbage, however, hid the ladder down to his abandoned subway home. Cradling his charge carefully in one arm, Mikey descended.

At the bottom of the ladder he paused and looked around. No Leonardo. Leo was probably training. You could set your clock to that turtle. Every morning at 5 am he was up trying to perfect his ninjtsu. Michelangelo shook his head. Leo just didn't know how to have fun sometimes. He stepped towards the short stair case that led to the main floor of the subway. No Donatello. If Donnie were awake, he'd be in his workshop. He was always building something or "improving" something already made. Halfway down the stairs Mikey paused again. No Master Splinter. Splinter usually spent the first couple of hours in the morning for meditation. Mikey didn't expect to see him for at least another hour.

Grinning, Michelangelo took the last few steps down, making a self assured beeline toward the subway car he called his room. With Donnie, Leo, and Master Splinter accounted for, Mikey was confident he wouldn't be found out. There was no way Raphael would be up this early. He was never up until the sun was well over the horizon. Humming quietly to himself, a spring in his step, the youngest of the four turtles was almost home free when he noticed movement to his right. He froze in mid step, turning his head.

"And just what do you think you're doin'?" Raph leaned nonchalantly against the frame to his subway car room, arms crossed and eyes narrowed. He looked between Mikey and the girl, the gleam in his eyes more of curiosity than anger. Mikey was studiously looking at everything but Raph.

"Uh.. uh..." Michelangelo looked around frantically, trying to find an escape route. At least it wasn't Leo. But why did it have to be Raph? Why not Donnie? Donnie would understand... "Aw Raph, I had to. She was being attacked and I couldn't leave her! Not out like she is." He lifted her a bit higher in his arms, as if trying to draw his brother's attention to her and away from him. "Who knows what could of happened?"

"You know Leo's not gonna like this." Raph countered as he stepped toward Mike, a small edge of amusement in his voice. "You know what happened the first time we brought someone down here. We ended up out of a home with Master Splinter missing."

"Wasn't it you who brought April down here?" Mikey and Raph both turned in time to see Leonardo sheath his katanas as he stepped out of a side passage and into the main chamber of the subway.

"That was different. She had my sai."

While Leo and Raph argued the technicalities and differences between the current circumstance and the one in which they had met April O'Neil, Mikey started edging away from his brothers and once again towards his room. He allowed himself a small, triumphant smile as he reached the threshold. His triumph was short lived.

"Hey guys, what's with all the racket? Mikey?" The orange headband wearing turtle flinched and slowly looked over his shoulder. Donatello stood just outside his own subway car room, yawning and stretching. Michelangelo knew it was too much to hope for Donnie to have not noticed the bundle in his arms. Mikey brightened almost immediately. If anyone would understand, if there was a way out of this awkward situation, it was Donnie.

"Donnie! You've gotta take a look at her. She was attacked in the sewer and I think she's okay but I'm not good at this sort of thing." He moved toward his bo staff wielding brother, past the slightly bewildered Raph and Leo. "Can you Don?"

Donatello looked equally as bewildered as his brothers at Michelangelo's quick spoken request. "Well..." He scratched his head, taking in the whole scene. Raph's curiosity, Leo's wariness, Mikey's concern. "I'll do what I can."

"Alright!" Mikey cheered, jubilant. "Come on Donnie, we'll use my room."

Leonardo grabbed the youngest turtle's arm as he tried to slide past toward his room. "This isn't a good idea, Mikey."

"Aw leave him alone, Leo." Raphael stepped forward, trying to place himself between his two brothers. "As soon as Donnie makes sure she's okay, we'll take her topside. We'll blind fold her on the way out if that'll make you happy."

They continued to stare down each other, Mikey and Donnie looking on. After a few short moments that seemed like an eternity to Michelangelo, Leo let go of his arm. "I still don't like this."

"You don't have to." Raph said, feeling rather smug as he watched Leo walk away. "Five bucks says he's goin' to rat us out to Master Splinter. No offense to Splinter." He placed a three fingered hand on Mikey's shoulder, grinning at his brother. "You're starting to be as bad at findin' trouble as I am."

"I'd better take a look at her." Donatello said, motioning to Mikey's room. "If Leo really has gone to get Master Splinter-"

"Oh he has." Raph interrupted.

"- then you'll have to explain yourself soon, Mike."

"Oh man..." The youngest led the way into his room, Donnie following close behind. Shifting his burden to one arm, he carefully moved a couple small stacks of comic books off of his bed, replacing them with the girl. After she was down, he stepped back. "He was choking her Don..." Mikey was usually the light hearted jokester of the group but he spoke with such tenderness that Donnie gave him a sideways look. That was the sort of thing they normally expected from the inventor and scientist of the group.

Donatello stepped into the space cleared for him by his brother and started checking her over. "Well," he started after a few minutes, "other than what I'd expect from someone living on the streets the only real damage was done to her throat. Pretty much what you'd expect from someone who had been strangled." Don gently fingered the large hand shaped bruises on her neck. "Her breathing and pulse are all within normal parameters. The only thing we can do is let her rest." He stood up and turned toward Mikey, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Don't worry, Michelangelo. She'll be okay."

"I hope so." Both turtles turned to leave, Mikey reaching to turn off the light. "Hey," he perked up as they stepped out of his room. "Do you think Splinter will let me keep her?"

"Mikey..." Don shook his head as the door was closed on their little unconscious charge.


	3. Escape

**Foreword: I hope this chapter makes up for the last chapter. I don't know what was wrong with me, but I just couldn't get that last one to work out right... Oh well. On to chapter 3!**

The first thing she was aware of was the searing pain in her throat. She wanted to cough, to get up and find some water to soothe the aching but she dared not move or make a sound. After all, she had no idea where she was.

As she lay there, trying to keep her breathing steady and feign sleep, it all started to come back. Returning to her hide out. Finding the door ajar. The man who attacked her. Despite the effort she had been making, the memory of the large man quickened her breathing and made her heart race. A cold sweat started dewing her skin and she had to fight back the urge to jump up and run. After only a few minutes which seemed like a life time, she got herself under control. Aside from the pain in her throat and a rumbling in her belly, she felt unharmed. Whatever he was planning for her, he was waiting until she was awake. Slowly, she opened her eyes.

The room was dark but a line of filmy windows along one side let in just enough light to give her an impression of the space. The room she was in was longer than it was wide with just enough room to walk on either side of the bed she now lay in. The mattress was lumpy, but soft and for the briefest moment, she let herself relish the feel of it. How long had it been since she slept in a real bed? She couldn't remember. A lifetime ago. Slowly she scanned the room in the dim light. Here and there stacks of papers. No, not papers. Magazines? Comic books? Against the wall near the door she thought she could make out a skate board. A child's room?

Her brow furrowed in confusion, she stared at the ceiling. Her confusion grew as she noticed the slight curve to the ceiling, almost like a dome. Where in the world was she? She wanted so badly to get up, sneak to the door and try to get away. But if there were lights on, there was someone awake. Besides, she was tired. Her bread and cheese had gone to waste and the struggle had taken a lot out of her. She would just lay down, rest her eyes for a bit. In an hour or two, she'd take better stock of her situation and make her escape. Just an our or two...

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When she next awoke, the room was pitch black. Whatever light had been filtering in was now gone. Her throat still ached but it wasn't as bad. Laying still with her eyes open, she tried hard to listen. For several minutes all she could hear was a soft, rhythmic rumble. Snoring? That was good. If the big man was asleep it would be much easier to get free. Slowly, she swung her legs over the edge of the bad, grateful for the time she had spent studying the room earlier when there was feeble lighting.

She reached the door with no more sound than a mouse would make only to find that there was no handle. A moment a panic griped her. Was this why she wasn't being guarded? Did the big man sleep because the doors couldn't be opened from this side? Biting her lip, her hands searched the surface. It didn't feel like a normal door. Like an elevator, she thought. Her fingers could just slip between both metal doors and she thought that maybe she could push one open. Stepping to the side, she latched on to one of the doors, bracing herself. In her mind, she counted slowly to 3 and tugged. Easier than she expected, the door slid back with a small screech, causing her to lose her balance and fall back into a stack of comics.

Frozen, breath held, she listened. With the door now open, she could clearly identify the soft rumbling as snores. They neither stopped nor faltered. Eventually, satisfied that she heard no sounds of approach, she began to breath again and slowly push to her feet. Edging toward the door, she peered through the gap she had made. The space outside was bigger than that of the room she was in. Of that she was certain. In the dark she couldn't make out the far side across from her or more than a dozen or so feet to either side. The dark didn't bother her though. She was used to it.

Her efforts to open the door had created a gap just big enough for her slight frame to squeeze through. Carefully, she did so. Once through she pressed herself against the side and froze. The darkness would help her escape notice if anyone where about. She didn't think there was. A couple minutes passed before she allowed herself to relax. The snoring continued and she heard no other sounds of possible movement. Breathing a sigh of relief, she started to walk forward. Which each step, her confusion rose. She was certainly not in any kind of house she'd ever seen. The ceiling was far over head and slightly curved like that of the room she had been in.

The room. She turned around to face her once prison cell. Her eyes widened with surprise and curiosity at what she saw. The room she had been in wasn't a room at all. It was a subway car. With this new and startling discovery in mind, the little hobo took a closer look around. This wasn't a house at all. It was a subway station. She started walking around, taking in everything she saw. Wooden benches, some covered with dust some looking almost new, as if they had been repaired. Junk piled in corners or along the wall, seemingly pushed out of the way. A little further on, a couch in not too bad of shape was positioned in front of a fairly large, if a bit out dated, T.V. screen. Absorbed as she was, she never noticed the form leaning against another of the subway cars.

Everything there fascinated her, but eventually her survival instincts kicked in again and she realized she needed to find a way out. She looked around trying to locate a door, a passage, something. There! Off to the side there was a small space a lighter shade of grey than the rest of the station. She slowly made her way towards it, nearly tripping on the bottom step of a short stair well. Reaching to her side, she found a hand rail and, holding tight to it, climbed the dozen or so steps up to a short landing. With out hesitation, the lost lamb strode to the area she had spotted from afar. It was a ladder. A ladder leading up. A way out? Smiling to herself, she started to climb.

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Raphael stood at the bottom of the ladder, watching her foot disappear over the edge. He considered just letting her go. After all, she wasn't really their problem. Mikey had done his part by saving her life. If she didn't want to stay, who was he to force her?

"Ah what the hell..." With a shrug, he ghosted up the ladder after her. If anything, he could use the trip topside to get some air. Though his brothers and Master were resigned to their fate, doomed to live forever under ground and forever in secret, Raph wanted more. He was tired of the stuffy, stinking sewers and the dusty, musty subway. He belong in the open air, jumping from roof top to roof top under the night sky. Although a major hothead who liked to shoot and ask questions later, Raphael wasn't stupid. He knew the world would never accept them. They'd be tracked down and hauled away to some science facility in a heart beat. But still, he could dream.

Once through the hole and into the sewer, Raph paused for the briefest moment. There! She would be easy to follow, running through the sewer without an attempt to hide the sound of her footsteps. Raph smirked. She must not know she had been followed. He followed after her, sticking to the thicker shadows and moving as silent as a ghost. From the direction she was heading, he thought that she intended to head back to where Mikey had said he found her. Raph frowned. That could be bad if the big oaf who attacked her had decided to make that his new hide out. "You're killin' me, kid..." He muttered, shaking his head and quickening his pace.

Around a bend and down a corridor, he saw her. Hugging the wall as he ran, he was able to easily slip past her. After a few more paces he stopped, spinning around to face her. She was still coming, and fast. Obviously, she hadn't noticed his presence. Either that or she was studiously ignoring it. He doubted that. Half heartedly, he braced himself. She was going to barrel right into him, but she was so slight he honestly didn't expect it to even tickle. Sure enough, she collided with him, a rush of air escaping her as she fell back onto her rear. Raph had to hand it to her; as surprised as she must have been by the appearance of a sudden "wall" she made no exclamation showing such.

"You know, it's bad manners to run out on your hosts without so much as a thank you." Raph quipped, crossing his arms.

She made no move to get up and although her fear was almost a tangible thing, she neither cried out nor made any sound at all. Despite himself, Raph started feeling a small amount of respect for her. "I'm not gonna hurt you, but Mikey's been real worried. If I hadn't stopped you, he would have dragged me and my brothers out here lookin' for you anyway." He stepped toward her, holding a hand out to help her up. "I figured I'd save myself the trouble and save Mikey the heart attack."

When the girl made no move to take his hand, he straightened. "Look, we can either do this the easy way, which would be you gettin' up and following me like a good girl, or I can throw you over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes." He crossed his arms then, watching her in the almost non-existant light. If he had possessed eyebrows, he most certainly would have raised one. "Your choice." When she again made no move, he sighed, dropping his arms to his side. "Look, once Donnie takes another look at you and can convince Mikey that you're fine, you can leave. Now are you gonna get up and walk, or do I have to carry you?"

Reluctantly, she climbed to her feet and started a slow walk back the way they had come. "Now that's more like it." With a glance over his shoulder, Raph swallowed his disappointment at not making it completely topside and followed her back home.


	4. The Name Game

She was terrified and wasn't ashamed to admit it. Fear, to a degree, kept you alive on the streets. Her shame came from how easily she had let her successful escape from the abandoned subway fill her with false security. She should have been watching, listening, creeping through the sewer as silent as possible. Instead she had ran flat out, never once thinking the big man could have a partner. Never once thinking the danger may come from ahead instead of behind. Now she was caught and saw no way to escape.

The sewer was too dark to clearly make him out but she was certain this was not the same man as the one who had assaulted her. He was shorter; not much taller than her own petit 5' frame. He was leaner too, more muscle than fat. Most of what she saw she wasn't able to sincerely trust. After all, the shadows made him seem sort of... Green. Nevertheless, it was obvious in her mind that she would not win in a struggle. She had no choice but to do as this man said. So once again she found herself at the bottom of the ladder and inside the abandoned subway.

A thousand scenarios were running through her mind as she waited, tensed, while her warden slid swiftly down the ladder. Nothing her mind created could have prepared her for what she saw after the short man walked down the steps and to a wall, flipping a switch that illuminated the whole of the station. The man before her was not a man at all. The green tint of his skin she had taken for a trick of the shadows was real. He wore a red mask over his eyes and tied behind a bald head, trailing ends down his back. His shell. Standing before her was a walking, man sized turtle. She grasped the metal of the ladder, using it as a means to cling to reality. Her shaking knees gave way and slowly, with the help of the metal ladder, she fell to a kneeling position, mouth open in a silent scream.

"Well ya didn't faint. That's a start." Raphael crossed his arms and watched her. It was a reaction he was used to and he tried not to take it to heart. Still, he wished just once some one would see him for the first time and not freak out. Ah well... "I said up there I wasn't gonna hurt ya. And I won't. So relax, okay?" He casually took the steps back up, stopping in front of her and offering a hand up. "I won't bite. Promise." When she didn't budge, he sighed and pried one of her hands from the ladder. "C'mon." He easily hoisted her to her feet.

She continued to stare as she allowed herself to be lead to the couch she had noticed earlier. In her short life she had encountered and seen a lot of strange things and people. But this... This man-turtle certainly took the cake. And what was more surprising to her was that he honestly seemed to mean her no harm. There was a phrase her mother was fond of. "Don't judge a book by it's cover." Well... Her mother had certainly been right in this case. Sitting on the couch, gripping one of its arms, she watched as he walked to the row of subway cars and started unceremoniously banging on the doors.

After a moment the first one opened and another man-turtle, this one placing a blue mask over his eyes, stepped out. "Raph? What's going on?" He asked as he looked to the red bandana wearing turtle, closing the doors to what she assumed was his "room."

"She's awake." Raphael responded as the second car's door slid open, two more turtle men stepping out. Her head started to spin. How many were there? What had she been thrown into?

"Alright!" The one with the orange mask jumped forward, rushing over to her. "This means I don't have to bunk with Donnie any more, right? His snores sound like an avalanche." She flashed him a nervous grin as the one called Donnie gave an indignant "Hey!"

"Back off Mikey." The one with the blue mask, Leo she heard him called, said with authority as he walked over. "She's been through quite a bit." He stood in front of her, keeping a small distance in between. "How are you feeling?"

She touched her throat, trying to convey that it was sore, scratchy. If Murry were here, he'd understand. He always understood. Looking around at their baffled faces, she frowned. Forming her hand into a C shape, she feigned drinking. If they didn't understand, she'd have to get up and hunt down where they kept their drinks. Her throat felt like it was on fire.

The one with the purple mask, Donnie, stepped towards her as Raph was taking a seat on the other end of the couch. "Are you thirsty?" He asked, leaning in a bit. Relieved, she nodded and Donatello left to, presumably, get her something to drink.

"You can't talk, can you?" Mikey asked. He was leaning on the back of the couch, looking down at her and forcing her to lean back in order to look at him. He had his head tilted a bit to one side and had an extremely curious glint in his eyes. This was the one Raph said had been worried about her. She smiled, somewhat sadly, and nodded. "Bummer." Mikey replied.

"I suppose you can't tell us your name then." Leo sat on the edge of the coffee table in front of the couch, crossing his arms and studying her. When she shrugged, he sighed. "Well, we can start with at least telling you ours. And where we came from." Donnie came back then and handed her a glass of water. Noticing everyone else looking at Leo, he looked too. "Well... Master Splinter usually tells it. I don't know where to begin."

"I find that it is always best to start at the beginning." All four turtles and their guest turned their heads towards the subway cars. Standing halfway between them and the cars was their Master Splinter. A talking rat who stood almost as tall as the four turtles. Somehow, this was easier for her to accept. After all, she had seen dozens if not hundreds of rats while living on the streets. Why not one that walks upright and can talk?

"Master Splinter." Leonard stood, making a quick bow to the rat. "Would you tell her our origin? It's more your story than ours. Without you... We wouldn't be who we are."

The rat walked closer, stopping to the side of the coffee table and lowering himself into a kneeling position. "You tell it, my son." Splinter said with a nod. "One day, I will not be here to tell our story."

"Alright..." Leonardo sat again on the edge of the coffee table, facing the little hobo. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, when his eyes opened once more, they were focused. "Nearly 17 years ago our Master Splinter was living as a pet rat of his Master Yoshi. Very suddenly, Master Splinter found himself without a home, living on the streets. One day, not long after, he found a shattered jar and four baby turtles."

"That's us!" Mikey interrupted only to receive a swift smack to the back of the head from Raphael and a sharp look from Master Splinter.

"The four turtles," Leo continued, "were crawling around in a green ooze leaked from a nearby broken canister. He gathered us up into an old coffee can and took us to his burrow, knowing we wouldn't survive long on our own. The next day, he was shocked to find the four of us had nearly doubled in size and so had he. Over the next few days, we not only grew in size, but also in intellect. We began to speak, walk up right. At that point, Master Splinter decided to give us names using an old Renaissance art book he pulled from a storm drain. I'm Leonardo."

"Donatello." The one with the purple masked raised a hand from where he leaned lightly against the T.V.

"I'm Raphael." The one to her left with the red mask responded, both sounding and looking bored. She wondered how many times they had been through this.

"Michelangelo." The one leaning over her said. "I'm the pretty one." His brothers groaned and Raphael smacked him again but she smiled. She was going to like Mikey. He was funny and seemed genuinely lighthearted. You didn't come across that often these days.

"What may we call you?" The rat asked. He was polite and came across as very wise. She instantly liked him.

"Uh... Master Splinter, she can't talk." Leonardo offered, looking back to the girl on their couch. "Maybe you could write it down for us."

"Or we could guess!" Mikey leaped over the couch, squeezing in between her and Raph. "Is it Anna? Marie? Elizabeth? Susie? Danielle? Lisa?" She stared at him as he continued to list names until finally he received another smack from Raphael. "Ow!"

"Okay..." Donatello moved past the T.V. and towards a small desk set against one of the far walls. "How about we just have her write it down like Leo suggested." After a moment he was back, laying down a piece of paper and a pencil on the coffee table in front of her.

Slowly she reached for the pencil. Her real name was out of the question. A little digging and she was sure something would turn up that would put her strange new friends in danger. She held the writing tool awkwardly; since being on the streets she had never had much use for writing. As she poised the tip over the paper she thought. There had been a book of poems and plays her mother used to read her. She was too young to understand the big words or the fancy way they had been thrown together but she understood very well how much her mother had loved them. Placing the led to the paper she recalled the authors name. Christopher Marlowe. That's it! She had her name and thought it would fit in quite well among these four. In a slightly shaky script, looking like something penned by a 7 year old, she wrote "Marlowe."

"Marlowe? What kinda name is that?" Mikey asked as he peered down at the paper. Marlowe imagined that if he had eyebrows, he would have raised one.

"A very old and very fine name." Splinter responded, shooting a reproachful look at his son.

"Is there anywhere you could go, Marlowe? Any family?" Leonardo asked, looking at the piece of paper as if it was going to give him a peek at her past.

Marlowe shook her head, and she wasn't lying. The only home she had known for some time now had been whatever hole she could burrow into for as long as it was safe. The only family she had known had been her mother. Now that the big man had found her service passage hide out, she definitely couldn't go back. Once again she was set adrift. At least she was used to it.

"Well..." Donnie started, drawing all eyes to him. "She could stay here. For now at least." At the slight frown he received from Leonardo he continued. "Until we can find her some where better. Maybe a relative somewhere." He shrugged, looking around their home. "We've got the room."

Mikey leaned forward, locking his fingers together in a pleading gesture. "Oh please Master Splinter! Can she stay? Can she?" After a pause, Splinter nodded. "Woohoo!" Michelangelo jumped up and headed to the subway car furthest from where they were. "I'll start putting her room together. She can have this one." He disappeared inside and Marlowe couldn't help but smile.

Raphael turned to Marlowe, twirling a sai a bit absentmindedly. "Welcome to the nut house."


	5. The King

Marlowe stood wrapped in a towel in front of the mirror. What was once a women's public restroom had been converted into a large, if modest, bathroom in just a few days by Donnatello and Leonardo. When she had first been told she could take a shower, a real shower, she was elated. An hour she had stood under the hot water, scrubbing her body and hair, rinsing and scrubbing again until her skin was raw. Her efforts to keep her hair from becoming too matted while on the street had paid off. Now clean, she could run her fingers through her cream colored locks with ease.

Nearly a week had past since then and there wasn't a morning Marlowe didn't start with a shower. Afterwards she stood in front of the mirror, as she did now, watching the subtle changes that were occurring from no longer being homeless. The circles under her eyes started to fade. Her cheeks were rounding out. She was always astonished by what she saw but astonishment always led to fear. Her features were transforming even more into that of her mothers. High cheek bones, heart shaped face, almond shaped eyes. Her eyes. Milky jade stared back at her where her mother's had been a crystal blue. The only trace of her father in her.

She held to the edge of the sink with a knuckle whitening grip. The guys... For their sake she had to leave and soon. True, this was the perfect hide out. If she never went above ground again, there was a chance no one would ever find her. But could she take that chance? Could she risk the life of Michelangelo? Mikey, who went out of his way to make her laugh. Or Leonardo? Leo, who readily accepted her once his sensei gave the go ahead and did his best to make her comfortable. Then there was Donatello, who meant well with all of his questions but was starting to get too close to the truth. How could she possible put Master Splinter in danger? The gentle rat who confessed to enjoying the quiet moments the two of them shared sitting and drinking tea. What of Raphael? It was true that his indifferent attitude toward her had left her several times seeking the company of one of his brothers but there was something... A look in his eyes she caught once in a while when he thought no one was looking. Something he was trying to hide.

Marlowe shook herself from her reverie, drying herself the rest of the way and stepping to the bench that held her clothes. A white long sleeve shirt a few sizes to big for her, the neck line exposing most of her shoulders, and a pair of white capri pants. The turtles had given her some money, a small amount but money still, and she had found a few things at a second hand store. After living dirty for so long, Marlowe found she loved the purity of white. After stepping back to the mirror and running her fingers through her hair a final time, Marlowe left the bathroom to have breakfast, a real breakfast, with her new friends. There was no use worrying herself. Not yet anyway.

* * *

The man in the business suite scrutinized the report in front of him. The Broebecker account was under budget. Good. He could have the account manager siphon a small amount into his off shore account while keeping a bit for for his trouble. Leaning back in his chair, he turned his face to the ceiling. New accounts were coming in almost daily, new contracts being signed. His son had just turned 10 a few days ago and his new secretary was a scrumptious red head. Yes, life was good.

His phone buzzed once, indicating that the very woman he was just imagining on a sleazy hotel bed was trying to contact him. He pushed the button for speaker phone. "What is it, Julia?"

"Mr. Gladue to see you sir."

He frowned. Alex Gladue was from investments and he did not have a meeting scheduled nor any big project that may need looking over as far as he knew. However, he was one with connections and was willing to sell them for a price. Preston Evanmeyer always paid the right price. "Send him in."

A short, balding man in a navy blue suite entered through the heavy double wooden doors. He stopped just short of the polished cherry wood desk and made an awkward but respectful bow. "Excuse me for bothering you Sir." Mr. Gladue pulled a kerchief from his breast pocket and wiped at a brow glistening with sweat. "But one of my buddies down at the police station was telling me something interesting over poker last night." When all he received was silence and a stern look from his boss, Gladue mopped at his brow again and continued. "Yes well... It seems that a baker's assistant was in just a few days ago to report a missing person. Now, you see, none of the boys at the station are taking it very seriously since the girl in question is homeless."

Mr. Evanmeyer waved a dismissive hand towards his underling. "If that's all you have for me, get out of my office. What do I care if another filthy bum disappears off the streets?"

Gladue fidgeted at his suite jacket, bringing his kerchief once again to his brow. "Well, you see, I thought the same thing until I heard the description. A blond girl, 16 or 17 with green eyes." A nervous smile broke across his face, only to melt away in uncertainty when he still gained no positive reaction from his boss. "I-it fits, Sir. The age range and the description fits what you've had us keep an eye out for."

"Why do you bother to tell me this?"

The mane in the navy blue suite started wringing the kerchief between his sweaty palms, eyes darting from side to side. "You uh... You asked, told us to report anything regarding her, Sir. I-I thought you should know."

Preston Evanmeyer leaned forward in his expensive leather chair, resting his elbows on his desk and clasping his hands. "I do not broker in rumors, Mr. Gladue. Bring me something definitive. Something tangible. A photograph, an eye witness that can pinpoint her last known location. It's very likely there are hundreds of blue eyed blond girls of that age range." The big suite lowered his voice, narrowed his eyes. "Until you do, I don't want to see your face again. Do you understand me?"

Gladue bowed once and hurriedly backed out the double doors. Preston leaned back in his chair, intertwining his fingers behind his neck and staring up at the ceiling. He was at the tail end of his 30's, had a gorgeous if timid wife, a company racking in millions a week, an heir to his fortune, and a possible lead to his last loose end from his younger days. Yes, Preston Evanmeyer thought, life was definitely good. Grinning, he pressed the button that was a direct line to his secretary. "Julia, cancel my one o'clock and transfer all of the lines to my voice mail. Stick Adam in charge for the next oh... Lets say an hour. Then come see me in my office. I'm feeling a bit... Stressed." It was good to be the King.


	6. Without A Trace

**Foreword: Holy story update, Batman! Another chapter already?! Anyway, I'd like to thank those who have been here since the upload of chapter one and welcome to the new comers! I hope you enjoy. I really do have great things planned for this. It has become my obsession and I don't mind! =)**

Michelangelo stood in a semi cleared out section of the subway station, almost absently spinning his nunchucks in a series of well known warm up forms. He did not watch his weapons or his form; he knew they were perfect. Instead, he watched Marlowe as she sat on the couch and watched T.V. She kept glancing at the other end of the couch, at Raphael. They were uneasy looks, like something might be bothering her. Just when he had made up his mind on how to jump over the back of the couch and make the best "splash," Marlowe stood and headed his way.

"Come to check out the awesome moves, Mar-OW!" Michelangelo, in his on going attempt to make Marlowe laugh had purposefully let one of his 'chucks fly a bit to wide and smack him in the back of his head. "Ow..." He mumbled, rubbing at the not so pretend sore spot. A huge grin spread across her face. Sweet satisfaction. It was nice to have someone a little softer around for a change. He loved his brothers, its true, but Marlowe brought a new perspective to things. Plus, she always clapped and smiled at his tricks and pranks. Even the ones he admitted were kind of lame.

She bit her lip, looking around. After a moment she walked hurriedly to one of Donnie's many work stations, searching through the clutter. Mikey scratched his head as he watched her lean over the desk, recognition donning when he heard the scratch of pencil on paper. "Oh, you want to tell me something." He crowed, pleased with his deductive reasoning. Even if he didn't know what those words meant... She returned, placing the note in his hand. It was short, only taking a moment to read. When he was done, he looked up and saw Marlowe's very best puppy dog eyes. "You want me to take you to visit a friend tomorrow morning?" She nodded. "Well, sure! It'll give me a chance to try out my new long board in the sewers."

Her face lit up in a silent cheer as she threw her arms around his neck in a tight hug. He smiled and hugged her back, imagining all the awesome times he was going to have with his new little sister.

* * *

Patience was usually something Marlowe had an abundance of. But the rest of that day had dragged has she waited anxiously for the morning. It had been almost two weeks since she had seen Murry, and although she knew it would be best never to go back to the bakery, she just had to see him. Little pieces of her heart broke off every time she thought of how worried he would be for her. She dressed hurriedly, throwing on a white peasant blouse and white, knee length skirt. Slipping on a pair of white keds, she left her room and headed towards the ladder. Mikey was already there.

"Does it have to be this early?" He mumbled, rubbing at his eyes with his knuckles.

She nodded, smiling as she stepped past him and climbed up the ladder. Mikey followed her, letting her lead the way through the tunnels. He would have to take over after a short ways, but for now he was content just to follow. "I hope the water's not too high in the larger tunnels. I can't wait to try this out!" Mikey hoisted a plain, wood finished long board over his head. A few more twists and turns and Marlowe stopped, letting Mikey take the lead. The tunnels were starting to widen out a bit, the floor sloping down and adding more height.

The sewer water was low, reveling a moderately wide path along the side. "Woohoo!" Mikey cheered, dropping his long board to the ground. "C'mon, Marlowe!"

Her breath caught in her throat as she was lifted by the waist and placed on the board. She wobbled, arms outstretched, but Mikey kept her balanced. The board bent downward in the middle in what she thought was definitely a dangerous way as Mikey stepped onto the board behind her. Her hands tightened around his still placed on her waist as they started moving forward. She wanted to scream, to yell "Are you crazy?!" but could only manage a frightened squeeze of his hands.

"Isn't this great?!" He laughed as they picked up speed. Marlowe thought she was going to hurl. He didn't slow down at turns, once even managing to jump a small can in their path with out losing her. Squeezing her eyes shut only made it worse. Thankfully, after a short length of tunnel later, Mikey stopped. "Well, we're here. This ladder should lead us right into the alley you mentioned. Mar?" He looked down at her, only just noticing the vice like grip she had on his hands. "You can let go now."

Slowly she pried her fingers away, looking up at Michelangelo with a gleam in her eyes that clearly stated that he should NOT do that again. Walking over to the ladder bolted into the stone wall, she looked up. Dim light was filtering through and she thought she could almost make out the sky. A grate then instead of a man hole cover. With a little effort she should be able to push that aside without Michelangelo's help. She started up, not looking down to see if he would follow. She knew he would. Reaching the top, she paused and listened. It should be early enough that no one would be waiting for Murry's handouts. It was quiet. Good. Grimacing, she managed to push the grate up and back. Peeking over the edge, she climbed out and made a quick beeline for the dumpster, letting the shadows swallow her.

Mikey followed her after replacing the grate. No need to give themselves away. He slipped into the shadows next to her, peering over her shoulder at the shabby nondescript door on the opposite wall of the alley. "Sooo... Come here often?"

Marlowe rolled her eyes but smiled. That was Mikey for you. She was sure they could have been sitting IN the dumpster and he would have said something similar. His sense of humor was probably what made Michelangelo her favorite of the four. He made it easy to forget where she had come from and kept her from thinking of where she might be going. Neither was ever very pleasant. The here and now. That's where Mikey lived and she did her best to live there with him.

They two had been there nearly half an hour and still the alley was empty. She couldn't understand. The other homeless should have started showing up by now. There should at least have been someone. Any moment Murry would come out that door and pass out the day old donuts and bread rolls he should have been tossing straight in the dumpster. Had they all found other places to go? Places that gave more? Were some sick? Lost? Dead? She cringed at the thought. She had been one of them and by a circumstance of luck had escaped. At least for the time being.

Barely five minutes later the door of their attention opened. Marlowe's brow creased in confusion. The man who stepped out was short, fat. His head was sparsely covered in whispy grey locks. A cigarette hung from his mouth and as he reached the dumpster, he tossed it down, smashing it under a well worn black boot. Marlowe leaned further into the shadows as the man opened the lid of the dumpster and tossed the trash. Grumbling to himself, he turned and went back inside.

Who was he? Where was Murry? Marlowe leaned against the wall, trying to reason out what was going on. It was several moments before she realized that Michelangelo was trying to talk to her. She turned her face to him, apologizing with her eyes for not hearing him.

"Was that him?" She shook her head. "Well, do you know that guy?" Again she shook her head and Mikey scratched his. "Well, you wanna go inside and see if he's there?"

Marlowe looked at him, eyes slightly wide with shock. Inside? She's never been inside the bakery. The homeless just didn't do that. And then it hit her. She wasn't homeless any more. She was clean, better dressed, better fed. She could walk right in there and pass as just another customer. She turned to Mikey and nodded. Yes, she will go inside and see if he's there. She stood and started to step from behind the dumpster when she felt his hand on her shoulder.

"Hey... Careful okay?"

She smiled, reaching up and patting him lightly on the cheek. Yes, she would be careful. When she reached the end of the alley, she paused and looked around. Carefully she slipped around the corner and into the foot traffic on the side walk, believing that no one noticed her sudden appearance. Besides, a lot of people took alleys as short cuts. New York was full of them and it made travel just that much quicker. Stopping in front of the door to the bakery, she was almost run over by a man in a business suit coming out.

"Watch it kid!"

She side stepped and quickly entered the bakery before the door closed. It was busy, men and women trying to grab a quick breakfast before work. She had to move several times or risk being stepped on and eventually found herself in a corner of the shop. There she waited, knowing full well Mikey was outside in the alley probably worrying himself to death over her. But as the minutes passed, fewer people came in and more were leaving. Three people left and no one new stepping through the door. She got in line, all the while searching behind the counter. Murry was no where to be found. Just the short, fat man from the alley and a taller, equally as fat, balding man.

"What can I get fer ya, sweetheart?" The taller man asked as she reached the counter. She bit her lip and tried to mime writing on a piece of paper. "Eh? What are ya? One of 'em deafs?" She shook her head and pointed to her mouth. "Cat got ya tounge, eh?" He reached under the counter and grabbed a pen and a slip from the register. Marlowe took it and wrote one word. "Murry? You looking for him?" She nodded. "Ain't seen him in almost a week. Just didn't show up one day. No word, nuthin'. Had to replace him on short notice with this lazy bum. Hey!" The man called over his shoulder, looking through a back door. "Hal! What ya doin' back there? Get back to work!" He turned back and looked at the confused Marlowe. "You family or something? Hey, hey wait! Ah forget it...."

Marlowe walked out the door and back to the alley, head down, no longer concerned about being seen. She passed the dumpster, hardly noticing Mikey jump out from behind it. He was talking to her, asking questions. She wasn't listening. Lost in thought, confused, she walked to the grate and yanked it open. She couldn't understand. Where had he gone? What had happened to sweet, kind Murry? His disappearance disturbed her greatly. He had once confided to her that he would be at work no matter what, if only to make sure she had something to eat that day. So why has he not been there?

Then it hit her. It was because of her! She hadn't been showing up. Murry must have been so worried. It's possible he's been out looking for her and that's why he hasn't been at work. She stopped half way into the sewer opening and quickly climbed back out, almost knocking over a startled Michelangelo. With out so much as a glance at him, she took off down the alley and into the street. His apartment... She'd check Murry's apartment. She ran, bumping into people, ignoring their angry yells. Two blocks. Four blocks. Ignoring the stitch in her side she kept running until she came to a street where all the buildings seemed about to fall over. She slowed, looking for the right building. There, a run down apartment complex painted a garish red to disguise it's lack of repair.

Looking up, she noticed a figure on the roof. Mikey. He had followed her and she was glad he had. Stepping into the alley between the building she wanted and the one next to it, she made for the fire escape. Murry's window had been right next to it. An empty crate created the perfect stool to reach up and grab the ladder. Three stories she climbed before stopping, leaning precariously over the railing to knock on a near by window. There was no light. Was he sleeping or already gone? Mikey dropped silently behind her.

"You took off pretty quick there. What happened? There wasn't a giant spider was there?" When she didn't respond, he became worried. She always smiled at his bad jokes. "Mar? What's wrong?" Slowly she turned and took his hand, tracing on his palm with her index finger. "Murry? Your friend? What is it?"

Marlowe sighed, leaning over once again and trying to pry open the window. It lifted easily with only a small squeak. With out looking at Mike, she climbed in. It took a few moments and several blinks to get her eyes to adjust to the darker interior of the small studio apartment. It was sparsely furnished: a bed, couch in front of an old T.V., metal serving stand. Mikey climbed through the window and stood next to her. "Looks like no one's home."

She walked around, looking at everything. It seemed normal, everything where it should be. Nothing was turned over, thrown aside or left askew. Then she saw it. Several folded pieces of paper by the front door. She bent down and picked one up as Mikey wandered to the closet. It was a late rent notice. That didn't sound like Murry... The second was a notice that if rent was not paid by the end of the week, the tenant would be evicted. She picked the last one up and started to read. It was an eviction notice, dated the day before. Murry wasn't out looking for her. Murry was gone.


	7. Digging for the Past

**Foreword: Told you this was my obsession. The next chapter might be longer coming what with Thanksgiving coming up. But it will be a great one, I promise. Enjoy! =)**

They had walked back in silence, Mikey for once holding his tongue. Marlowe was distraught, withdrawn and he was worried about her. Now they descended the ladder home, Marlowe first and he close behind. A few steps forward and she stopped, staring across the station at Leo and Don and one other. April. It was April O'Neil. The turtles had mentioned her from time to time and she had even seen her on the news once. Just another person potentially caught in her cross fire. She could hear their conversation from where she was, and she was almost positive they hadn't spotted her yet.

"Marlowe can't be her real name. April's been helping me look through birth records, identification records, anything we could get our hands on spanning back 18 years." Donnie was saying, flipping through papers piled on one of his work tables. "And there's definitely no Marlowe, first or last name that would fit with her."

"April!" Mikey cried jubilantly as he reached the bottom, hurrying over to the reporter. The three around the table jumped and Don made quick work of stuffing his papers in a file and throwing them in a drawer. "I didn't know you were coming."

April hugged Mikey, her eyes on Marlowe. "I didn't know I was either." She stepped away from the turtles and towards where Marlowe was just coming down the short flight of steps. "You're Marlowe? Donnie's mentioned you a couple of times." They stood in front of each other, April looking down and Mar looking up. "They haven't driven you crazy yet, have they?" She asked with a smile.

Smiling up at her, Marlowe shook her head. Already she started to like April and that was going to be a problem. Especially if she was helping Donnie try to dig up her past. It was best left buried. She left April standing there and moved to the couch. Raph wasn't there, that was a relief. It was early enough he might still be in bed. She sat down and started flipping through the channels, not really paying attention but trying to seem absorbed. What she was really doing, was listening to April and the turtles.

"How'd it go?" Donnie asked.

"It didn't." Mikey responded. "The dude wasn't there. We went to his place but... Nothing. A few notes. Late rent, eviction." He glanced over at Marlowe. "She's worried. I guess disappearing isn't like Murry."

"I'll see if I can dig anything up at the station. I'll be talking to Chief Sterns tomorrow. Maybe he'll know something."

"Thanks April." Mikey said with a grin. "Sooo.... What are you guys doing?"

"Trying to see if we can find something on Marlowe." Donnie replied.

"You know, this would all be so much easier if we had just a couple more reference points. We've been looking in New York records." April spoke softly, trying to not let her words carry to the girl on the couch. "We don't even know if this is where she's from. She could be from Texas or Colorado for all we know."

"For that matter, we don't know how old she is." Leo added.

"Ever try askin' her?" Every one turned, Marlowe included, to see Raphael stepping from his room. He walked over to Marlowe and peered down at her on the couch. "How old are ya, kid?"

Marlowe, thrown off guard, took Raph's hand. She felt him tense up under her touch, and instantly regretted it but it was the easiest way. In his palm she traced a 1 and a 6.

"She's 16. Hey brainiac." Raph turned towards his brothers, speaking to Donatello. "How come you couldn't think of that?"

Marlowe couldn't help but grin a bit. It was true, none of the turtles had ever thought to ask her how old she was before, though she knew they had to have been wondering. It was something she hadn't intended to give up knowing that it would narrow Donatello's search. But Raph had surprised her, both by being there and and asking her directly. He almost never spoke to her, and when he did it was an offhand comment or request. Pass the milk, this show sucks, things like that.

He took as seat on the opposite end of the couch, draping his arm along the back. Marlowe looked down at the remote in her hand and then offered it to Raph. He took it with out comment and started flipping through the channels. She watched him from the corner of her eye only half paying attention to the soap operas and day time television he was skipping. He stopped at what looked like a fairly old kung fu movie. "Eh, only seen this one a couple of times."

In the background, she could still her Donnie talking. "Knowing her age, there are several records April helped me find that I think are promising." He shuffled a couple stacks around, finally finding one several inches thick. "Here we go. Unfortunately, there's still about one hundred here that could be her."

Michelangelo groaned. "I'll leave the smart stuff to you guys. My long board is callin' me." He wandered over and picked up his board where he left it, heading toward the ladder. "Hey Marlowe, wanna come?"

She curled herself up further on the couch, shaking her head vehemently. That was certainly one experience she didn't want to have again.

"Your loss!"

Marlowe turned her attention to the T.V., at the moment choosing to tune out Don, April, and Leo as they tried to figure her out without confronting the problem head on. Maybe they realized she wouldn't give up anything too important. How could she? The closer they got to the truth, the more trouble they could be in. Remembering the past, remembering her mother, she found herself starting to doze. She hadn't slept well the night before, anxious to see Murry. She leaned her head back and closed her eyes, allowing her consciousness to wander.

She opened her eyes, surprised to see the T.V. off and Raph gone. Had she fallen asleep? It had seemed like only a moment or two but she couldn't remember feeling Raphael get off the couch. Sitting up on her knees, she turned to look over the back of the couch. Leonardo was no longer at the desk but April and Donatello were still there.

"It was years ago." April was saying, holding a mug in her hands. "It ran for years, decreasing in popularity but it kept popping up in news papers and magazines." Donnie was listening to her raptly, and Marlowe found herself doing the same. "Sixteen, fifteen years ago. I'm not really sure. It was a big scandal at first. The married head of a prosperous company supposedly getting a woman within the company pregnant. She claimed it was his, he denied it. If the kid really did belong to him, she would be heir to a fortune."

Marlowe's breath caught in her throat. _No... No... Stop. Don't say any more, please! _Her hands clenched at the back of the couch and her teeth chewed at her bottom lip. How had April drawn a line connecting the story she was now talking about to their search for where Marlowe came from? She cursed herself for falling asleep. If she had been listening, paying attention she could have created some sort of distraction, something that would have thrown them off the topic at hand.

"What happened?" Don asked.

April shrugged, taking a sip from her mug, from her tea. "I don't really know. Seven or so years after the first running of the story it all just stopped.I assumed at the time it had all been worked out. Happy endings don't make good news." She shook her head at that. "But now..." She looked to where she thought Marlowe was still dozing, starting a bit at the wide eyed, frightened girl peering at them. "Marlowe?"

Donatello jumped up from his chair and rushed over to her, placing his hands on her shoulders. "Mar? Hey? Are you okay?"

She shook herself, regaining a bit of her composure. Taking Donnie's hand she traced a word in his palm. _Stop. _They had to stop digging. Closer and closer they were getting and there as nothing they could do about it. She was still alive for the moment and that was good enough. Why couldn't they understand that?

"Stop? Stop what?" April asked, standing at Marlowe's side. "Do you think we've found something?" She asked Donnie, smoothing down Marlowe's hair in a gesture she hoped would calm the girl.

"I don't know..." He replied, relaxing a little as he saw Marlowe do the same. "You were talking about that scandal." Mar tensed. "Is that it? Does that have something to do with you?" Reluctantly, Marlowe nodded. "Will you tell us?" She shook her head. "Marlowe... We can't help if you don't let us."

"Lay off the kid, Don." Raphael was climbing down the ladder. He jumped halfway down and started walking to the small group. "If she wants ta say nothin' let her say nothin'." He put a hand on his brother's shoulder, firmly moving him back from the couch and Marlowe.

"Raph... We're just trying to help." April responded, stepping back a bit but keeping a comforting hand on Marlowe's head.

"Looks more like you're hurtin' than helpin'. You've got her scared to death."

"We want to understand Raph. She's got to have family out there that misses her, that's looking for her." Donatello shook his head, turning to Marlowe. "I honestly don't mean any harm."

Marlowe shook her head slowly, reaching up and placing a hand on Donatello's cheek. She forgave him. He was good, everything about him was good. How could she hold his digging against him? She turned and sat back down on the couch, staring blankly at the black screen. Raphael walked around and sat at the opposite end. Marlowe smiled a bit. It was their pattern. He on one side, she on the other. It was starting to feel comfortable instead of awkward. Raph grabbed the remote and started flipping through channels again. He would stop at an action movie or a martial arts movie. He always did. It was their pattern.

"I need to get going." April said. "I'm expected at the station in a little over an hour." She placed a hand on Don's shoulder briefly before heading toward the ladder. "Later guys. Bye Marlowe!"

Mar waved over the couch, not turning to watch April leave. Donatello turned and went back to his work station. He'd check out the story April was talking about and he was hoping that April would too. It seemed like their biggest lead so far, considering the way Marlowe reacted to it. He wanted to help her, erase the fear he saw in her eyes from time to time. No one should have to live in fear. He wished Mikey would hurry up and get back. Marlowe seemed to be happiest around him and Donatello for one just wanted her to be happy. He used to dream up a sister, sometimes older, sometimes younger but always interested in is machines and theories. Marlowe wasn't very good with machines, but she always listened. He would help her, he HAD to help her. Michelangelo and Leonardo would too. But Raph...

Donatello looked over his table at the back of Raphael's head. He couldn't figure out why, but Raphael seemed like he just really did not want Marlowe there. He wasn't rude or hot tempered around her like Donnie would have expected. He was just... Cold. Stand offish. Oh well. Raphael's problems weren't his own. Right now he had to get back to his research. He'd find a way to help Marlowe. Even if it killed him.


	8. No Chance for Goodbye

**DISCLAIMER: Just wanted to take a second to reiterate that I'm not making any money off of this and I do not own the turtles. Though they have been known to stop by for dinner on occasion...**

Almost a week had past and there was no word on Murry. Every morning Marlowe went to the bakery to see if he had returned, Donnie, Mikey, and Leo taking turns going with her. They stopped going to his apartment after the third day. The landlord had cleaned it out and had it prepared for a new tenant. If Murry had tried to return home, he would find nothing and would likely not hang around.

April's snooping hadn't found much either. Chief Sterns was as helpful as usual, saying nothing substantial and more than anything just giving her the run around. She did manage to hear someone talking of a missing persons case they were working on. A blond haired, green eyed, homeless teenager. April had told Donatello, but no one else. It was a lead she would follow using her connections and there was no need to involve anyone else until she knew for sure if someone really was looking for Marlowe or not.

Both April and Don had found more on the story they had talked about a week past. They had talked it over and decided the best thing to do would be to confront Marlowe on it and see what sort of reaction it got. Donatello tried to complain, tried to convince April that the shock method was cruel, but in the end his scientific curiosity got the better of him. He had to know, and he believed it would help her. April was entering their lair now so her and Donnie could do just that.

"Hey guys." She called as she walked down the steps.

"Hey April!" Leo, Don, and Mike called in unison. Raph just raised a hand in greeting from where he sat on the couch, Marlowe in her normal spot on the other end turned and waved.

Donatello and April stood together for a moment, talking quietly to each other. After a short time, they raised their heads and walked over to stand near Marlowe. "Hey Mar?" Donatello began. Once he had her attention, he continued. "April and I think we found something."

"Last week I brought up an old news story from years ago." April continued after Don without giving Marlowe a chance to respond. "The company in question was Evanmeyer Industries. A secretary claimed to have had the owner's baby. A little girl." April paused and watched Marlowe. The signs were subtle, but they were there. Her eyes got a bit wider, her breathing a bit faster, hands gripping the arm of the couch. "The secretary's name was Abigail Masters and the little girl's name was Sonja."

Donnie moved to stand in front of Marlowe. "Abigail gave her the last name Evanmeyer, certain it was his child. But he was married and had no children yet, so acknowledging the child as his would make her his heir, and no doubt cause a lot of problems with his wife. Besides, there was never any solid proof the child was his." He watched as her breathing became more ragged and her hands clenched even tighter on the couch. "Mar... We think the little girl was you. We think you're Sonja."

Somewhere during this, Mikey and Leo had entered the room. Both stood off to the side, behind April but close enough to see what was going on. A wave of emotions crossed Marlowe's face. Fear, pain, anger, and finally resignation. They had won. The turtles had figured out where she came from. That was all they'd learn though. The papers didn't print what happened almost nine years after her birth. They never mentioned how she ended up being homeless. The information the turtles had now was harmless. They knew her real name now. So what? That didn't mean anything. She took several deep breaths, and nodded.

"Why didn't you tell us you were famous?" Mikey asked, a huge grin on his face.

"Give it a rest, Mikey." Raph mumbled half under his breath. "If she didn't wanna tell us she didn't wanna tell us. Why'd ya have to go diggin' for it, Don?"

Donatello looked a little confused, taken aback. "I was just trying to help."

"Yeah, we heard that one before..."

"You sure weren't doing anything, Raphael." Leo interjected pushing past Don to stand in front of his short tempered brother.

"You ever think she didn't want us to do anything?" Retorted Raphael.

Marlowe was tuning them out. The news was running and she thought she heard something familiar. She tilted her head, looking past Donatello. The story that the stone fast male reporter was talking about looked like a somewhat morbid one. A body found washed up on the bank of the Hudson. What about that had caught her interest? The name... They were releasing the name in hopes someone knew him. Maurice Skorup. Maurice... Marlowe frowned, her brow knitted in concentration. She felt she should know that name but she couldn't think. She wished Leo and Raph would go argue somewhere else. Then a memory came back to her. The only night she had ever taken Murry up on his offer of a home cooked dinner. It had just been spaghetti, but it had been fantastic. He had talked enough for two people and during that time he had told her his full name. Maurice Skorup. Murry.

It felt as if her heart just stopped. She couldn't breath. Murry? She wanted so badly to scream but even if she could, it would be stuck behind her heart which had taken up residence in her throat. Suddenly she threw herself off of the couch and to her knees, startled turtles and April focusing on her. She crawled hands and knees to the T.V. trying to find a discrepancy, something that would point to the body belonging to someone other than Murry, sweet kind Murry. Dental records, the reporter said. They had no question as to who it was.

Suddenly she could breath again, air rushing in and out of her lungs quickly, raggedly, stabbing pain through her lungs. She gripped her throat, willing something to come out, anything. A moan, a sigh, a scream, anything. Leo, Don and Mike surrounded her, unsure what to do. April stood off to the side, letting the turtles comfort her. They had known her longer, they would know what to do. But they didn't. They felt just as lost as Marlowe did but for a different reason. She pushed their hands aside, tears streaming from her eyes, and lunged at the T.V.

Her face was pressed against the screen, wails of anguish ripping their way from her throat. Gone... He was gone. Another person's life cut short because of association with her. Murry... Kind, sweet, plain faced Murry. He never judged her. Never pushed her. He only helped and his reward was a cold, watery grave. Because he was her friend. Her friend. She pulled away from the screen, looking up into the three faces that surrounded her. Leo behind her, his hand on her back. Donnie to one side, his hand on her shoulder. Mikey on her other side, a hand stroking her hair. Her friends... The same fate would befall them.

She watched their nervous eyes as she wiped at her own. For their sake, she had to get out. She stood, breathing deeply, avoiding the hands hovering unsure around her. She looked at the three of them, knowing she would miss them deeply but knowing too that they would be far better without her. She smiled weakly as she started as if to go to her room. Once free of their reach, she broke into a run, fresh tears streaming down her face. Something grabbed her from the side after only a few short steps. She fought and clawed with all her might, but the grip was a vice pulling her to her knees.

Marlowe turned, ready to throw away the chains that bound her but what she saw stopped her short. Raphael looked down at her, his face a stone mask but his eyes swirling with sadness. Her sadness. "It's okay ta cry." He whispered. After she broke down, while the others were watching her, Raphael had been watching the news. He put two and two together and understood.

It was too much. All this time she thought Raph would rather see her leave. Instead, he was the only one who reached out to stop her. Her arms reached for him, wrapping around his neck and silently pleading for his strength, his support. He obliged by pulling her closer, encircling her with his arms. Marlowe pressed her face against his neck, crying for another life wasted. The others could only look on at the two kneeling on the floor.

Raphael held her until the tears stopped, until the trembling ceased. Even after, while her breathing slowed, while her grip loosened around his neck, he held her. It was the only thing he could do for her and that frustrated him to no end. He wasn't smart like Donnie. He couldn't make her laugh like Mikey could. He wasn't as good at the strategy thing as Leo was. But he had strength and he made a silent promise to give every ounce to the girl in his arms. At least for now.

He didn't know how much time had past, but Raphael realized that she had fallen asleep. A troubled sleep, he didn't doubt but it was better than the hysterics only moments before. Slowly, he stood, trying not to jostle her too much and wake her. She needed to rest and when she woke, he'd go back to their usual routine. She'd be smothered enough by his brothers wondering what happened and wanting to comfort with words. He would comfort just by being there. Raphael entered her room and placed her gently on the lumpy mattress.

Puling the covers up, he looked down at her and hoped she was dreaming something pleasant, something from a happier time in her life. There was no doubt in his mind that there had been happier times for her. She was such a sweet kid, always smiling. Their drab, abandoned home was brighter just by her being there. Raphael stopped and shook his head. He knew where his thoughts were going and that was dangerous. Marlowe wouldn't stay with them forever and he knew that was for the best. She belonged above ground, where she could really shine.

Shaking his head again Raphael walked to the door and stopped, looking over his shoulder at the girl who so quickly and suddenly dug her hooks into all of them. "Sweet dreams, Mar."

* * *

Preston Evanmeyer watched the news that night from his home office in upstate New York. A deep frown lined his face and creased his brow. The body was never supposed to be found; someone had gotten careless. It was no matter though. His men had gotten some more information from the disgusting man at the bakery than the cops had. He knew some of her favorite spots now and had gotten a much better description than the cops.

Still, it was a shame to have had to kill the man. He would have made excellent bait for a trap. But there were other ways. His men were combing the streets, calling in any and all favors that could be made useful. It was only a matter of time before his way ward child was brought in and the last tie to that fiasco years ago was cut.


	9. Unquiet Sunrise

It was nearly dawn and Raphael couldn't sleep. He had made a valiant effort of it, tossing and turning in bed until just an hour before. He trained, pushing himself hard and trying to burn away the demons that kept him from sleep. Maybe he should go out and find some criminals to fight... But the sun was almost up and he would just be sent back into hiding. Hiding. Always hiding. He growled in frustration, turning and tossing a sai at the punching bag hanging from the ceiling. He tilted his head as a small figure ducked behind that same punching bag. "Mar?"

Marlowe stepped out from behind the bag, eyeing the sai warily. Frowning, she gripped the handle and pulled. It was stuck in there pretty well, Raphael having thrown it with all of his might, but she managed to extract it. The weapon that fit so well in the red mask wearing turtle's hands seemed giant in hers. She walked to where Raph still stood, his other sai snug in his belt, and handed it to him, a shy smile on her lips.

"Uh... Thanks." He took the offered weapon and tucked it in his belt opposite its brother. They stood there awkwardly, neither knowing where to go from the events of the previous evening. Raphael had made an inner promise to himself and to Marlowe to go on as if it all had never happened but he was finding that difficult. He could forget her tears and the desperation in her eyes but he couldn't forget how perfect she had felt in his arms, how soft her hair was and how it smelled kind of like peaches. He cursed himself silently as he watched Marlowe who in turn was watching him.

"I was thinkin' of takin' a walk topside." Raphael said, finally breaking the silence. "Nothin' fancy. Just want ta get out for a bit." He turned and started heading towards the ladder, looking over his shoulder. "Wanna come?"

She smiled and started after him, staying a few steps behind. The pair wandered the tunnels in silence, Raphael speaking once in a while to point out some treacherous place for Marlowe to step over or around. At a junction in the tunnels Raphael stopped and climbed to the surface. He emerged in an alley between two apartment complexes, looking around as he waited for Marlowe.

"So uh... Where to?" He asked.

Marlowe looked around the dark alley. Dawn was fast approaching but shadows still lurked. She smiled wide, an idea sparkling in her eyes. Turning to one of the apartment buildings, she pointed at its roof.

"Up?" Raph asked, tilting his head a bit in confusion. "What do ya wanna do up there?" He watched as she turned, still smiling, and pointed toward the sky in the east. "The sky...?" Raphael scratched at his head for a moment before piecing it together. "You wanna watch the sunrise?" She nodded enthusiastically. "Why not?" Raph said with a shrug.

With a nimble leap, Raphael grabbed on to the raised metal ladder of the fire escape on the side of the building. Once up, he leaned down and offered a hand to Marlowe. She had to jump a bit, but managed to catch his hand and hold on as he pulled her up with ease. They climbed, Raph looking over his shoulder once just to make sure she was still following. At the top, Raphael offered a hand to help Marlowe over the edge. She took it and offered a small smile of thanks.

Raphael watched as she almost pranced to the eastern edge of the roof. Even in the darkness of predawn, she glowed. She didn't belong in the sewer, underground living with four mutant turtles and a mutant rat. He'd help her carve out a place in this world. Even if that place excluded him.

Marlowe climbed the edge of the roof and sat with her knees pulled to her chest. She kept her eyes on the horizon, still smiling as she watched the first splashes of pink and orange as the sun slowly rose. Raphael came up beside her and for a moment, she closed her eyes and felt as he leaned against the concrete railing. While she had been falling apart last night Raphael had pulled her together. Laying in his arms, she had felt safe for the first time in years. Opening her eyes, she glanced over at Raph. Maybe she wouldn't have to leave them after all...

A startlingly loud pop preluded a small explosion just below Marlowe's foot. Wide eyed she jerked her foot back and was thrown off balance. Raphael leaped forward as she started going over the side and pulled her back. They both fell hard to the roof as another pop was heard and something whizzed between the two of them. Raphael pulled Marlowe close to the bottom of the concrete barricade. "You okay?"

She nodded, shaking a little and gripping the back of her head. Why now? Just when she was finally feeling that she could start over. She turned to Raph who had his head turned towards her but his focus else where. He was listening. Marlowe reached up and patted his shoulder, getting his attention before using her hand to form a makeshift gun.

"Yeah. I think I figured that out." Retorted Raph. "Gah... Splinter's always tellin' us to be careful topside. Someone musta seen me and flipped." Slowly he raised his head over the barrier to check things out but had to duck again quickly as another shot was fired. "I'm gonna go take care of this punk. You head back to the lair."

Marlowe grabbed his arm, shaking her head vehemently. But Raph wasn't paying attention so she placed her hands on each side of his face and drew it towards hers. Confident that he now had no choice but to look at her, she shook her head again. Releasing his face, she made the gun again and tapped her chest with her other hand.

"Are you tryin' ta say that who ever's takin' pot shots down there is... After you?" He laughed, shaking his head. "That's crazy. Who'd wanna shoot you?" His laughter stopped as he looked at her again. Whether she was really the target or not, Marlowe was very much afraid. "Hey, I'll get us out of here." As Raph was looking around, forming a plan to get them out of their sticky situation, they both froze. A soft squeak. Some one was coming up the fire escape. Raphael placed a finger to his lips and motioned Marlowe along the side of the barrier. When she hesitated, he gave her a little shove which started her crawling.

After he was sure she would keep going, he started to look around. He needed something, anything he could throw and distract the gunman for just a moment. He found nothing, but that wasn't going to stop him. A grin on his face, he drew his sais. "Guess I'm doin' this the old fashioned ninja way." Raph glanced to his left, grinning at Marlowe before standing up and jumping over the barricade in one swift motion. The man had just reached the top level of the fire escape and fired a startled shot that went wide, missing its target. Raphael landed in front of the man and delivered a right hook that pushed the assailant against the metal rail. A round house kick and the already off balanced gunman was toppling over the rail with a scream. He landed in a pile of trash and, much to Raph's disappointment, staggered up and started to rush away.

"Where ya goin'? I haven't even gotten started yet!" Raph shouted down. He was a moment away from jumping down after the man when he heard the sirens. "Damn..." He muttered. Someone must of heard the shots and called the cops. He climbed up and over the concrete edge and sprinted over to Marlowe. "It's time ta go, kid." Still moving, he pulled her to her feet then lifted her to his arms. Eyes closed, she clung tightly as he jumped to the next roof. He traveled from roof to roof for several blocks before he finally stopped, setting Marlowe back on her feet.

"Well that was excitin'." He grinned down at her, but the grin quickly disappeared at the look of fear still on Marlowe's face. "Hey, Mar. It's okay now. I took care of that wack job." But she wasn't listening, staring off in the distance. "Mar... Hey." He took her by the shoulders and turned her towards him. "It's alright. You're safe."

She shook her head, pulling from his grip. Taking his hand she slowly traced four words. _They killed my mother._

* * *

He finished the last dregs of his coffee and left the mug on the island counter. His wife would take care of that. After all, it's what she was there for. Mr. Evanmeyer took his black leather brief case from the counter and strolled confidently into the living room. Grabbing his keys from the hook near the door, he looked over his shoulder and frowned. Jared was sitting crossed legged on the floor. The dark haired ten year old had a shabby looking calico cat purring in his lap.

"When will you stop taking in those disgusting creatures?" He sneered.

"When there are no more to find homes for." His son replied, not raising his head from the animal on his lap.

Preston straightened his tie. "Well, when you're running the company you'll find there's no time for trash."

"I don't want to run the company..." Mumbled Jared.

"What was that?"

"I said 'Yes Father.' That's all."

Mr. Evanmeyer eyed his son suspiciously as he opened the door to leave. "I should hope that's all you said. Now don't be late for school." He walked out the door with out looking back. Just as he was taking a seat in his expensive Porsche Carrera his car phone began ringing. He looked at the handset for a moment before answering. "Speak." He commanded as he put the car into revers and backed out of the driveway.

"_S-Sorry to disturb you so early, Mr. Evenmeyer." _Gladue's voice came through the receiver. "_But one of my men brought me something I thought you'd want to know about."_

"Mr. Gladue... I know you're not calling me from the office." He said condescendingly, driving slowly through the residential streets.

_"N-No, Sir. From a payphone. One of my men was out this morning and spotted a girl on a roof." _There was a pause in which Preston could imagine Gladue wiping at his brow. _"He spotted a girl on a roof with some... Some weirdo dressed in a frog costume."_

Preston increased his speed as he left the houses behind. "And this means _what _ to me exactly?"

_"The girl... She fits the profile. My man managed to get a picture of her." _Preston frowned at the pride in Gladue's voice as he delivered that last tidbit. He needed to be taken down a peg.

"A picture doesn't do me any good, _Mr. _Gladue. I want the girl. Station your men in pairs next time. One obviously isn't enough." He hung up, ignoring Gladue's mumbled apologies and promises of better performance in the future. A photograph was a step in the right direction. A small step, but a step nonetheless. Yes, things were falling into place. Now if only he could do something about his son's affinity for strays.


	10. Always Running

**NOTE: I had to completely rearrange my story outline thanks to this chapter. It grew a mind of it's own and decided to go in a direction I certainly didn't plan or see coming. But I like it, and I hope you will too. =)**

She half ran to keep up with him through the sewer, stumbling here and there, scraping the heel of her hand on the rough wall. She watched as Raphael jumped through the opening, no hesitation and no need for the ladder. Marlowe knelt at the lip, peering into the brightness below. He wasn't there, at the bottom. He wasn't waiting for her. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, her nose involuntarily scrunching up from the assault of rot and decay that made permanent residence in the tunnels.

He had been angry on the roof. She understood that. His jaw tightened and his hands had balled into fists after what she told him. How could she blame him? These last weeks he and his brothers had been harboring someone they barely knew, a stranger with a secret that could get them all killed. Voices drifted up to her from below. They were yelling, arguing, and she was sure it was about her. Right now Raph would be yelling to have her kicked out, thrown unceremoniously back on the streets. She was sure Mikey would object, but would the others? Leo might, but his case wouldn't be strong. Donatello wouldn't. The only interest he ever showed in her was for her past.

Images flooded her mind, rocking her back on her heels. Her mother's angel face mutilated in a grotesque mask of terror, eyes struggling to escape their sockets as she stuffed her six year old daughter in the hollow space under a loose floor board in the living room. She could almost feel again the reverberate crack as the front door collided with the wall. Her mother's screams, the heavy thud of unknown footsteps. Then a moment of silence. Sonja wanted to cry out, to call for her momma to take her out of the dark hole and feed the fish with her. But Sonja held her tongue, trusting with her childish innocence that her mother would come for her. Trusting that her mother had a reason for telling her to be quiet.

Marlowe's eyes snapped wide. She didn't want to remember what came next. Mouth working in a silent plea, she spun around, clawing at the ground in an effort to move forward. Slimy, slick things attacked her hands and feet in a conspiracy to keep her from fleeing but she broke free, lurching to her feet and bolting back the way she had come. Leave. She had to leave. Now before she could change her mind. Now before she had to face the accusing eyes of Raphael and his brothers.

Back through the tunnels she ran with no destination in mind other than away. Marlowe would sentence herself back to the streets so the turtles wouldn't have to, so the turtles could get back to their lives. She ran, twisting and turning through the labyrinth beneath New York until white hot claws dug at her sides and her lungs threatened to burst from her chest. She grabbed the nearest ladder and made her way to the top, struggling with the bulky cover. Free of the darkness and the stench, she stood on an empty street corner and let the brisk morning air soothe her aching lungs as she looked around. Down the street was a run down warehouse with most windows boarded up and those that were not staring back with the filmy glaze of the blind.

It would work as a haven for now, she thought. Assuming that no one else held claim to it. If it was occupied, she'd find somewhere else. Simple as that. Arms wrapped around herself, holding her sides, Marlowe made her way down the street. A slow circuit around the building revealed a small single door in the front and several loading docks in the back. Expectations low, she tried the front door and was shocked to find that it opened easily inward. She stepped over the threshold and quietly shut the door.

Little light filtered through the grime covered windows but what light there was revealed mostly empty space. To her left was a little square room jutting out from the corner with a door that had a busted hinge. An office, she thought. To her right and midway along the wall was a hodgepodge group of boxes and crates. Marlowe made her way toward the mess, wishing she could call out and see if anyone was already squatting there. She approached the boxes slowly, letting her footsteps fall heavy to announce her presence. She searched through the boxes and crates, half expecting a grimy man or toothless woman to pop out like a jack-in-the-box. Satisfied that she was alone, she made her way behind the pile. Hunkered against the wall like a bulbous troll was a large tank with many pipes escaping from its top. She approached it slowly and, curious, placed a hand on it's surface. A furnace? What ever it was, she'd appreciate it's warmth once night fell again.

She sat down heavily against the wall and near her heat machine and sighed. The guys were safe now that she was gone. That was all that mattered to her. So why did she feel there was a chasm opening in her chest? And why couldn't she stop thinking about Raphael?

* * *

"And you left her out there?" Leonardo said, both shock and anger coloring his voice.

"She was right behind me." Raph replied, waving dismissively in his brother's direction as he traced his steps back to the ladder. "Hey Mar. You comin' down or what?" No response. "Mar?" He called louder. Nothing. "Damn." Up he went, looking around and calling for her again before taking off down the tunnel.

"Raph! Wait up!" Mikey called behind him.

"I gotta find her, MIke. There's a nut job out there that wants ta kill her." He stopped at a junction with one tunnel leading to the left and one to the right. "Marlowe?" He called. "Hey! Marlowe!" His voice echoed back to him, mocking him.

"I know." Michelangelo said. "I want to find her too."

"You can't go wandering the city in broad daylight." Leonardo said, coming to a stop behind them with Donatello in tow. "Sonja's a bright girl. She'll find somewhere to hide for a while."

Raphael took off down the right tunnel, walking fast and scanning the ground and walls. "If she's smart enough, she'll leave the city. I need ta find her before that." He glanced over his shoulder at Leo. "And don't call her Sonja. She doesn't like it." He stopped at a ladder he knew led to service grate down an alley. As he started to climb up, Leonardo grabbed his arm. Raphael's instinct was the shake it off and even slug his brother if that's what it took. But the grip on his arm wasn't very firm and he thought Leo was probably about as worried about Marlowe as he was. "I'm goin' after her, Leo."

"Raph... It's broad daylight in a busy city." Leo said.

"Don't worry Leo." Raph grinned, shaking off his brother's grip and climbing up. "I'm a ninja, remember?"

* * *

Marlowe had been squatting in the warehouse for almost a week. It had taken her a couple of days to get used to the gnawing pains of hunger but now she hardly noticed them. Being dirty again, that was something harder for her to get used to. Try as she might, she couldn't keep the dirt from caking in under her nails or covering her clothes. She grew tired of feeling her greasy hair swarming around her face so she kept it tied back with a discarded blue ribbon she found.

She had grown soft while living with the guys and she was angry with herself for that. All along she knew she couldn't stay with them. All along she knew she would end up back on the street. As long as her father was looking for her, she couldn't risk staying in one place too long. The thought had crossed her mind several times to leave the city. She'd thought of California, where her mother had been born, but some how she could never bring herself to leave the city her mother had grown to love so.

Closing her eyes, she leaned against the large furnace and thought of her mother and how her arms had felt when wrapped around her. Not for the first time, she wondered how it would feel now that she was bigger. Her thoughts wandered from her mother to the night she had cried for Murry and Raphael had held her. He had been surprisingly warm and as muscled as he was, his arms had been gentle. Marlowe opened her eyes and sighed.

The turtles were looking for her and she knew it. One night while rummaging through an alley dumpster she had seen a figure leap from roof to roof over the alley. She wasn't sure which turtle it had been but she had a feeling it was Raphael. Raphael... Her stomach jumped when she thought of him, when she thought his name. Her heart thumped faster in her chest when she pictured his face. It was a feeling different from anything she had ever felt. It crept in when she let her guard down, laying in wait to emerge only when the object of those feelings was no longer within her grasp. She had to wonder... Had she fallen in love?

Her stomach gave a half hearted growl, providing her a welcome distraction. She left the warehouse, heading toward a familiar area of apartments where she knew that if she could forage some food, she was likely to get a hand out. People were sympathetic in this neighbor hood. Most were elderly or over worked. They could all imagine how easily some one could misstep and end up on the streets. She wandered down an alley and poked her head over the dumpster. She thought she smelled bananas and began sifting through to see if she could find them.

Something brushed against her ankle and she jumped, looking down. A smile graced her face as she looked into the lively eyes of a grey stripped cat. She was skinny and her fur was matted and bare in places. Marlowe bent down, forgetting about her stomach for the moment, and gently ran her hands over the friendly stray. The cat returned the affection, purring and butting her head against Marlowe's palm. The cat meowed and turned her head towards the alley opening, cocking her head. Marlowe followed the cat's gaze and froze.

A young boy stood just inside of the alley, well dressed with a book bag slung over his shoulder. He had the look of a well bred and wealthy family. She couldn't understand what a well kept boy like him would be doing in this part of town or in an alley. The cat pranced over to him with out hesitation and Marlowe cringed, expecting the boy to take a shot at the poor thing with his shoes. Her mouth dropped when he picked the cat up and cradled her gently in her arms.

"Hello." He said, staring intently at Marlowe. "Is she yours?"

Marlowe shook her head, standing and taking a few steps closer to him. Someone who would pick up such a bedraggled animal with out flinching couldn't be worth fearing. She began to smile in greeting but froze, noticing his eyes for the first time. They were like rounded almonds in shape but it was the color that made her breath stick in her throat. Milky jade. Other than for photographs of her father, she had only seen eyes that color in a mirror. She took a step back just as he took one forward.

"Would you mind if I took her home? I live in a large house with plenty of room. She'd be warm and well fed." He looked down at the cat for a moment and when Marlowe didn't respond, he looked up. "I could bring her by once in a while if you-" He broke off in mid sentence squinting a bit in the dim light. "You have the same color eyes as me. But... Father says that's a family trait."

Marlowe saw his eyes widen just as she turned and fled as fast as she could down the other end of the alley, her hunger forgotten. He called after her but she ignored it. Her mind was racing faster than her legs, thoughts tangling together, tripping over one another. She needed to get back to the ware house, to calm down and think clearer. Her brother... She had a brother. It had to be! She was thrilled and frightened, angry and sick and more feelings she couldn't put a name to. She pushed through the crowds, ignoring the angry cries and threats as she barreled on.

Feeling she would collapse and her lungs would explode, she reached the ware house and fell through the door. She lay on the ground, trying not to think or move as she struggled to catch her breath and slow her heart. After several minutes she pulled herself to her feet and made her way to her box mountain. Safely behind it, she slumped against the wall. She had a little brother. If that little brother told anyone he had seen a girl with eyes like his, she was dead.


	11. It All Comes Tumbling Down

**Author Note: I know I really shouldn't get in the habit of apologizing for the things I write but.... I want to apologize for what I think is an atrocious fight scene later in this chapter. Fight scenes aren't one of my strength. Now love scenes... I can write you a love scene that will make you're face red while keeping it PG 13. ;) Anywhozel... Enjoy chapter 11!**

* * *

Jared walked slowly out of the alley, his mind no longer on the purring cat in his arms. The girl in the alley... Her eyes had been the same as his. The only place he had ever seen eyes that exact color of green had been family members on his father's side. He had considered himself lucky to inherit such a distinct family trait instead of his mom's expressive but plain hazel eyes. He walked down the street to a black luxury sedan and nodded a silent thank you as the driver held the door for him.

The stray's needy mewlings drew him back to the present. He had stopped petting her and she would have none of that. "I'm sorry. It seems I have a lot on my mind." He smiled at the feline who wasn't the least bit interested in anything but attention. Jared asked the driver to take him home and hardly noticed when the car pulled into the driveway or the time in between. Placing the cat on the floor of the living room, Jared walked into the kitchen to find his mother cleaning up from breakfast.

"Home already, sweet heart?" She asked, her voice as light and clear as a spring breeze. "I thought you were going to spend the day down town."

"Mom, father is an only child, right?"

She shot her son a quizzical glance as she poured him a glass of milk. "That's right sweetie. Is something on your mind?"

He was silent as he drank from the glass and it was empty before he looked up at his mother. "There was a homeless girl downtown."

When he paused, Susan Evanmeyer was afraid she was going to hear her son say that they should have her move in with them. She smiled a bit to herself at the thought of her son graduating from homeless cats to homeless girls. "From my understanding there are a lot of homeless downtown."

He shook his head. "This one was different."

"How so?"

"She had eyes like mine and father's." He had looked at his empty glass as he said this and missed his mother flinch. "But I'm confused. If father doesn't have any siblings, then she can't be a cousin or anything."

Susan closed her eyes and sighed. Her husband liked to think that his indiscretions were kept secret but she knew. She also knew about the supposed love child he had and the scandal he tried to keep from her. "Sweet heart... Jared. We need to talk."

* * *

Raphael and the others had been out all night looking for their friend. His brothers had turned for home when the first rays of morning started to stretch across the horizon but he continued. He figured he still had an hour or two before the streets and sidewalks became too populated to search effectively and still stay unseen. Sitting on a roof in the business district he rubbed his eyes, fighting off his weariness. The turtle had spent a good half hour searching the block and he was about to give up when he saw a figure running down the street. She ran straight for the warehouse across from his perch and barreled inside. The girl had been thin and dirty, but by the way she moved he was sure it was Marlowe. It took every ounce of will he had not to call out but he couldn't risk drawing attention to himself. Instead he made his way to the ground and with only a short glance in each direction bolted across the street and quickly through the warehouse door. In his haste, Raphael failed to see the black sedan coming down the street.

Inside Raph took a moment to look around. He noticed the office with the broken down door but his gaze kept drifting to the immense pile of boxes and crates along one of the walls. It's where he would have hidden. No way he would have trapped himself inside the small space the office offered. Without worrying about stealth, he made his way to the pile and sat down in front, crossing his arms over his chest and getting comfortable. He sat there in silence for several moments before speaking.

"I can understand why ya left and why ya think ya have ta do this alone. It's your problem and ya don't wanna drag us down with ya. Am I right?" He paused and received only silence in return. But then, that's what he expected. "Now you've gotta understand our way of things. You're part of the family, one of us, and we don't let nothin' happen to our family." This time his silence was accompanied by a slight ruffling from the boxes behind him. "Now, I'm gonna sit here and let ya think things over. But you should know that I ain't leavin' without ya so you can either come out now and we can go get somethin' ta eat, or I can drag ya out and carry ya over my shoulder like a sack of flour."

He didn't have to wait long before his patience was rewarded. Marlowe crept from her haven and sat next to Raphael, pulling her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. He looked at her and tried to think of something to say, but all he could think of was how warm she felt sitting so close to him. She was definitely thin but her eyes were still bright and her face was relatively clean. He wanted to touch her, to bring back a taste of the night she found out her friend was dead. As casually as he could, Raphael slid his arm around her thin shoulders. A simple gesture that. What harm could it do? She looked up, her forehead furrowed in question and for a moment Raph was ready to take his arm back. Before he could she pointed to herself and then to the boxes behind them.

Raph was silent for a moment, trying to catch her meaning. "Oh. Ya wanna know how I knew you were back there." She nodded and he could barely contain his grin. "I didn't. I gave that same speech ta two stray cats, a dog and a homeless guy."

Her face lit up with amusement and a smile fluttered to her lips. Her lips. They were shapely lips, if a bit thin and dry. Raph closed his eyes and shook his head slowly. He had to stop thinking like that. The life he led was not for her and he wasn't going to drag her any further into it than she already was. He made a promise to himself that as soon as this mess with her so called father was cleared up he'd help her carve out a place in the sunlight. When he opened his eyes, all of the thoughts he tried to lock away came flooding back.

Marlowe was looking back at him and Raphael could almost swear he could see what was in his heart reflected in her eyes. His throat went dry and he swallowed several times. _Who am I kiddin'? _ He thought. _I ain't strong enough for this. _He leaned towards her and a thrill sparked through his body as she tilted her head back in response. Her breath was warm on his face and he watched as her eyes started slowly sliding closed. _This is it. _He thought.

A loud crash shook them both back to reality. Raph was first to see the mountain of a man standing where the front door used to be. He shot to his feet, aware of Marlowe doing the same, and stepped in front of her. Drawing his sais, he studied the intruder. The man was tall, easily 6'1" or 6'2" with wide shoulders and muscles straining against a plain black t-shirt. This guy was bad news incarnate, but Raph had faced mountains before and they always came tumbling down.

So intent he was on the mountain that he didn't notice the two smaller grunts standing in the doorway behind him. It was Marlowe's hand on his arm that drew his attention away long enough to notice. "Damn." Three against one wasn't what worried the ninja. Each grunt help a gun in one hand. He glanced over his shoulder and grimaced over Marlowe's wide eyed look. He had to get her out of there. He could get out of there fairly unscathed, but if he had to worry about her safety at the same time... It would be a disaster.

"S'cuse us." One of the grunts spoke, his voice high and screechy. He was thin with a long nose and greasy, dark hair. A weasel turned human if Raph ever saw one. "We inturruptin' somethin'?"

The other grunt laughed and Raph recognized him as the man he had met on the fire escape. He assumed a more relaxed position, never letting his guard down. Sometimes confidence was the best weapon. "Hey I know you. Glad ya could make it. I wasn't finished kickin' your butt before ya ran off."

His words had the desired affect. Fire Escape's face slowly started turning red and his free hand clenched into a fist. Raph almost laughed at the way the veins started to pop from the grunt's neck. His partner, the Weasel, leaned over to whisper something and Mountain tilted his head to listen. While they were distracted, even if not by much, he spoked quietly to Marlowe. "I'm gonna charge 'em." The hand on his arm tightened. "Don't argue. Just do what I tell ya. As soon as I charge, get somewhere safe and hide and don't move till I come get ya." He didn't have time to make sure she agreed as the men turned their attention back to the pair. Both grunts looked calm and collected again.

"I only ran 'cause of the cops. You won't be so lucky this time, ya big lizard."

Raph smacked his forehead. "I'm a turtle. A freakin' turtle! How come no one ever gets it right?" He shook his head, spreading his feet in a balanced stance, holding one sai in a backwards grip and bringing it up level to his face. "Enough talk. Let's do this."

He rushed forward and instead of keeping his body low to lessen resistance and gain speed, he stayed straight to try and cover Marlowe's flight. Both grunts managed to fire a shot before he was on them and he grimaced as they whizzed by. Neither struck him, and he hoped neither struck Marlowe.

Ducking to the left he dodged a fist from the Mountain. Using his momentum, he turned his dodge into a low sweeping kick that took Fire Escape by surprise. Raph had to dodge a downward kick from Mountain and didn't watch him go down but a satisfying thud told him the fight would be two on one for a short time. He rolled to his feet and risked a glance back toward where he had left Marlowe. She was no where in sight. Good. He swung a punch at the grunt still standing but the Weasel back stepped and only took a glancing blow to the jaw. All the same it threw him off balance and enabled Raphael to grab the wrist holding the gun and wrench it from his grasp. He sensed Mountain lunging at him from behind and, planting his feet firmly, he spun the grunt into the big man's chest.

Mountain didn't topple but then, Raph didn't expect him too. He followed behind the Weasel with a powerful jump kick that took down both men. Fire Escape was on his feet again and leveling his gun for another shot. Raph hurled a sai with precision that took him in the hand. With an exaggerated scream, he dropped his gun and held his now bleeding hand. Raph turned just in time to catch a massive boot to the chest from Mountain.

Not much damage was done by the kick, but it knocked Raph back and off balance, stealing his breath for a moment. It was just long enough for Mountain to follow through with another kick that caught Raph in the side and sent him to the ground. He rolled to the side then summersaulted toward the Mountain, slashing with his sai at the man's thigh. The slash was dodged but gave Raph a chance to flip backwards onto his hands, kicking up and catching Mountain under the chin. Raph finished off the Mounting with a jumping round house that caught him in the side of the head and sent the man crashing to the ware house floor.

Hesitating only a moment to make sure he wasn't getting back up, Raphael then glanced at the Weasel. Still on the ground. He turned his attention to Fire Escape who was bending to pick up the gun with a shaky hand covered in blood. "I wouldn't do that if I were you." The grunt flinched, looking from Raph to his cohorts on the ground. It didn't take him long to make for the door, his arms pinwheeling comically as he ran. Raph watched him go and nodded before retrieving the sai he had thrown.

After wiping them on the Mountain's shirt, he returned both sais to his belt and wiped his hands. "Well... That wasn't much fun. Hey Mar. Where'd ya go?" Her head popped up from behind the pile of boxes and crates and Raph strolled over. "You okay?" She smiled and stepped out into the open. "Good. Hey.." He sniffed at the air, looking around. "Do you smell gas or somethin'?" She shook her head.

Shrugging, Raph was about to suggest ditching the joint when Marlowe's eyes flew wide and she pointed behind him. He glanced over his shoulder to see the Weasel stand and a gun in his hand aimed their way. As the shot went off Raphael grabbed Marlowe and threw her to the ground with himself on top. There was a second of silence before a blast that buried all other noise followed by an immense heat. Raph had time to look down at Marlowe lying beneath him before the world went black.


	12. Aftermath

Death shouldn't hurt. That was her first clue that she had somehow survived the blast. Her lungs were on fire as she tried to draw breath. The back of her head throbbed where it lay on the concrete and there was a sharp pain in her thigh that felt wet and sticky. She stretched her consciousness past her own body and felt an intense, almost stifling heat and heard the soft creak of wood shifting, the click clack of rock and concrete tumbling over each other and the soft grunts and moans of someone straining. Marlowe opened her eyes.

For a moment she thought she had imagined the pain and really had died in the explosion. She was surrounded by an inky blackness but slowly her eyes adjusted. Barely a foot in front of her face she could see Raph. His eyes were closed and his jaw was clenched in concentration. What was he doing? She looked around, seeing each of his arms framing her head, his body over hers, debris around them. She blushed despite herself, despite the situation. He had sheltered her, kept her from being crushed as the building came down and even now he used his own body to keep the weight of it all from smothering the life from her.

Her breathing quickened, searing her lungs but she didn't care. She reached up, placing her hands on each side of his face, willing him to open his eyes and look at her. Once he did, she thanked him with her eyes and pleaded with him to hold on. "You okay?" He grunted, she nodded. She tried to smile at him, tried to be brave but she just wanted to cry. How come she had never realized just how much he cared about her? He had been the only one to reach out to her when she needed it most. He was the one who kept searching for her when she obviously didn't want to be found. He had risked his life to keep hers from being snuffed out. He was the one...

Marlowe wanted to scream, to yell, to curse the world for always being so unfair. She wanted to tell Raph that it was all her fault, that he didn't deserve to be there under all of the rubble protecting her. She wasn't worth it. She wanted to say she was sorry, to tell him to hold on for his own sake, that his brothers needed him. Splinter needed him.

"Raph..." She froze. A voice. Someone was out there looking for them. They were saved! She smiled, looking up at him wondering if he had heard it too. "Raph." There it was again. But not his brothers. The voice was soft and scratchy but unmistakably feminine. April? Marlowe had only met the woman a handful of times but it certainly didn't sound like her. She looked for recognition on Raph's face but found only a look between disbelief and shock.

"What did you say?"

She frowned, her brow crinkling. What did he mean? She hadn't said anything, she couldn't! She shook her head, wondering if they were running out of air and it was somehow affecting him. "Raph..." Again she froze. That voice. It was coming from right there, under the rubble with them. With eyes as round as the moon, she looked back to Raphael. He was smiling. His arms were shaking and he looked ready to collapse, but he was smiling. She licked her lips, her heart ready to burst, her stomach fluttering. Forming his name on her lips, she hesitated. What if it really hadn't been her? What if they were both hearing things? If she opened her mouth now, would only silence follow? Marlowe took a small breath and focused on Raphael's hot chocolate eyes. "Raph."

His smile widened and it sent a chill through to her very marrow. She could speak! In that instant she was no longer in danger of losing her life, trapped under half a building. She was soaring through the clouds above a crystal blue ocean, dipping and diving, her stomach turning circles. Marlowe opened her mouth to share the feeling with Raphael, to tell him all she felt now and all she had been feeling. Silence. She tried again, taking a deep breath. A small rasp, air escaping the lungs. Nothing. The smile vanished from her face and her heart sank. She felt an icy grip on her chest as she plunged into the deepest, darkest part of the ocean that only moments before she had soared over.

She didn't understand and by the look on Raph's face, nether did he. "Raph..." At least she could say his name, it wasn't a dream, but that was a far cry from everything she needed to say. She didn't cry, although she wanted to. How could she explain to him the tears in her eyes? No, he would assume she was afraid for her life and she wanted to be strong for him. But without help, how long could they last?

Raph's eyes were closed again and his jaw was tight. She felt exhausted as hope left her but she couldn't take her eyes off of him. He slipped a little closer to her as his arms started to give. How long could he hold it all? How long had it been? Gently she wrapped her arms around his neck. She didn't want to add any more weight, but she wanted desperately to touch him. He opened his eyes and she saw determination battling with despair. He shook his head sadly.

"Sorry Mar." He grunted. "I don't think we're gettin' out of this one."

She wanted to shake her head no, to argue with him. But she couldn't. She knew they were doomed. All things considered it wasn't such a bad way to die. A bullet in the back of the head was how she had always imagined her end. But this, this was almost romantic. A young man and woman buried alive, bodies intertwined. She closed her eyes and sighed. She was ready. Raph could let go now and she would be fine with it. It made her happy to be there with Raphael, as selfish as that was she was happy not to die alone.

The rubble started shifting above them and Marlowe held her breath. This was it. Raph had finally lost his strength. While she was wondering what it would feel like to be crushed to death, voices came to her. The were muted and gruff but she knew them. The iciness snaked back into her chest. It was them. The men that Raph had beaten only moments before, the ones who were undoubtedly sent to end her life, were now digging them from their rubble grave.

Raph was cursing, his eyes darting this way and that in the darkness. Marlowe sincerely hoped he was forming a dynamite plan to get them out of there. Or at least, to get himself out. Small shafts of light started to break through the darkness and Raph's arms weren't shaking quite so much. They would break through soon, and trapped as she and Raph were, there would be no where to go.

"Mar, I've only got time ta say this once, so listen up." He whispered, lowering his face closer to hers, putting his mouth near her ear. "They'll hafta get me first, and when they do, I'm gonna fight 'em, keep 'em busy." He pulled back a bit, and Marlowe could feel him readjusting his body, his legs and feet. "As soon as I'm up, you get outta here. Just run and get back to the lair. Leo'll know what to do."

She had just enough time to nod before a pair a large hands grabbed Raph and pulled him off of her. Sounds of struggle reached her as she took a deep breath, holding it in her searing lungs as she pushed herself to her feet. She gasped, the air rushing from her lungs. Raph lay unmoving at the feet of the Mountain, the big man grinning like a fool.

"Hey sweetheart."

Marlowe turned and watched almost in slow motion the splintered board move toward her head. Then she knew darkness once more.

"He should be back by now." Leo was pacing, which was unlike him. Even when seething he managed to put forward an outward appearance of calm. But his brother was still out there, along with dangerous men looking for the very same thing he was. That worried Leo. True, Raphael could take care of himself, but he was often impulsive, irrational, overly emotional. If he found Marlowe in danger, it was likely he wouldn't be cautious.

"Michelangelo, Donatello. we're leaving." He moved with purpose to the wall where they stashed their weapons and took up his katanas, examining them in the light. Brilliant and razor sharp, they weren't just steal but an extension of himself. He sheathed them across his back in an X formation as he heard his two brothers approach.

"What is it, Leo?" Don asked, removing a pair of goggles.

Leonardo faced his brothers, his manner calm again. "We're going to look for Son- for Marlowe. And Raphael."

"Aw Leo." Mikey whined, rubbing his eyes and yawning. "Raph'll come back when he's ready."

"Not this time." The eldest turtle said, shaking his head. "Get your weapons. Our brother needs us."

Jared sat quietly in the backseat of the car, his mother beside him. She was nervous, or maybe even scared. He could tell by the way she kept twisting and knotting the handkerchief in her hands. Not once did she look at him, but kept her eyes straight, staring at the headrest of the seat in front of her. This trip was necessary, though Jared had had a hell of a time convincing his mother of that. She wanted to wait until Father came home but he wanted to confront him at his office, where he couldn't side step them.

It had surprised him how much his mother knew and how much she was willing to tell him. He did have a sister, an older half-sister. Jared didn't care how she came to be. His head, heart, and conscience all told him that she was the rightful heir to the company and she should be given the chance to take it. It also bothered him that she was living on the streets while he had a warm, comfortable bed and more money than he'd ever know what to do with. He was positive now that the girl he had met in the alley was his sister. The eyes were a dead giveaway, but even if they had been a plain brown he would have known. There was just something... Different about her.

Without looking, Susan reached over and patted her son's knee. Jared looked at her hand and sighed, wishing he didn't have to bring his sweet, loving, compassionate mother into this. He took her hand and squeezed in what he hoped to be a reassuring way as the pulled into the private, underground parking lot of Evanmeyer Industries. The driver parked in one of the reserved spots for Mr. Evanmeyer and his family then walked around to open the door for Susan and Jared. He watched his mother closer her eyes and take a deep breath before turning to him.

"Let's go see your father."


	13. Confrontations

**Well, lets see if I can get Raph and Mar out of their little predicament. I didn't originally intend for the last chapter to end the way it did so this one should be interesting. Will they escape? Will they get the chance to admit that they have feelings for each other? How will Preston take to his son's knowing the truth and confronting him? Will Leo and the guys find their brother and adopted sister? Good questions. Let me know if you have the answers. 'cause I sure don't. ;)**

Raphael came awake to a whirring, spinning sound. His head hurt, man did his head hurt. He grunted, squeezing his eyes tight before slowly opening them. Head bowed, he saw his ankles bound to the wooden legs of a chair, a chair bolted to the concrete floor with thick, strong looking steal. Frowning, he flexed his arms and found them also bound, behind his back and to the chair. A sigh to his left brought his head up. Marlowe was tied similarly to a chair about five feet from his own.

Her right eye was partially swollen shut, and blood ran from her bottom lip but she smiled, shoulders relaxing. Raph clenched his hands in tight fists and felt his jaw tighten, working furiously. Who ever it was, which ever grunt had laid his hands on her would pay. He'd get them out of there, get her out of there, and lay waste to anything and anyone in his path. "You okay?" He asked, half growl and half whisper.

Waiting until after she nodded, Raphael started to take in their surroundings. The room was small. About ten feet each way with the walls plain white plaster. The whirring sound he had heard came from a ceiling fan placed dead center of the ceiling with one large bulb glaring down at the two. The room had no windows, no vents, just one plain, wooden door with what looked like steel reinforced hinges. Raph grumbled. There would be no busting down that door if the lock was as strong as those hinges. His sais weren't on his belt and he hadn't seen them in what he could see of the room, so he couldn't use them to slowly hack the door down.

"Damn.." He shook his head and regretted the motion. That Mountain had hit him pretty hard. He didn't know how they had gotten to where ever they were. One thing at a time. He had to get his hands free, then his legs, then Marlowe. Slowly he twisted his hands, trying to gauge how much give the rope had. Whoever had tied him, knew what they were doing. The ropes were tight, with almost no room for his movements. But he was better. He found a spot a little looser than the rest and slowly started working that one loop over his hands. He glanced at Marlowe who was studying him intently and gave her a wink which brought a satisfying blush to her cheeks.

Before he could finish, the door opened, the mountain blocking the view of the next room as he stepped through, a smug grin on his face. Behind him came Weasel and Fire Escape, both trying to look at ease but failing, the guns in their hands shaking ever so slightly. They both clearly remembered how easily Raphael had beaten all three of them. Marlowe's gasp drew his attention to the next man who walked in the room. The man was not exactly tall, but neither was he short. His fancy business suit was immaculate, creased in all the right places and spotless. His command of the room was almost touchable, a physical thing, but it was his eyes that caught Raphael. The same emerald green as Marlowe. Her father.

"You have no idea how pleasing it is to finally meet you." The man said, stepping in front of Marlowe and peering down at her. "I've been looking for you for such a long time I thought we'd never meet." He reached down to brush a strand of her hair from her face but she flinched away. "Is that anyway to act in front of your father?" Preston Evanmeyer backhanded her hard across the cheek, not a trace of emotion on his face.

"Leave her alone!" Raph yelled, straining against his bonds, unable to control his actions. He ground his teeth as Preston slowly stood and looked his way. There was a hint a fear in the business man's eye that flickered out as soon as he took note of the rope around the turtle's hands and feet.

"What in the world are you?" Preston asked, his voice mocking and amused.

"You're momma." Raphael growled in response. His wit was rewarded by a strong right hook to the jaw from Mountain. Raphael had had worse, but he held his tongue, catching the worried look on Marlowe's face.

"Cute." Preston said dryly. "Well whatever you are, hopefully you're not the last of your kind because I'd just hate for you to go extinct."

"Really?" Raph asked, raising an eyebrow. "That's the best ya could come up with? I'm sittin' here, a giant freakin' turtle, and that's the best ya could come up with?" He knew he should keep his mouth shut, but he wanted to keep their attention on him and off of Marlowe. His quip brought his face up close and personal with Mountains left hook.

Preston held his hand up, halting Mountain's intended second punch. "I think I'll give you to my scientists. They've been begging for a special project for months. And you..." He moved to Marlowe and took her chin in his hands. "You won't live to see tomorrow."

She spit in his face and Raph grinned. "That'a girl Mar." Carefully, slowly, Raph went back to work on his ropes. If he could just get his hands free...

Using a hanky handed to him by Fire Escape, Preston wiped his face. "Just like your mother. Dirty and unrefined." He said calmly. "I have to know. How did you escape that night? You were how old? Five, six?"

The loop was almost over his hand. Raph hoped the took his small movements as a vain attempt at freedom. He also hoped one of them tried to touch Marlowe again once he was free. Who ever it was would end up in so many pieces, an ant colony would be set for the winter.

Marlowe continued to glare at her father, and Raph was sure she wouldn't answer him even if she could. Her silence seemed to irk Preston. He frowned, rubbing his chin in thought. "My associates ransacked the apartment and found no trace of you, but I'm sure she couldn't have been tipped off." He circled Marlowe, and Raph was afraid he'd spot the progress he was making on the ropes. One loop off, and much looser.

A knock came at the door as Preston opened his mouth. Closing it, he frowned, turning slowly to to eye the door. Marlowe sagged visibly against her bonds once his gaze left her, and Raph wanted desperately to reach out to her. Preston's line of questioning was starting to hit a very painful nerve for the girl and Raphael was torn between anger and concern.

"This had better be good." Preston said, motioning for Weasel to open the door.

"M-Mr. Evanmeyer." The short, balding man stuttered as he walked through the door, glancing nervously at Marlowe and Raphael. Raph grinned and felt satisfied when the man pulled out a handkerchief and started wiping his brow. "I'm sorry to d-disturb you Sir, but I thought you should know." Again, he wiped his brow. "You're wife and son are here. I-I saw them pull into the p-parking structure. Just thought you should know, Sir."

Mr. Evanmeyer studied the man from investments, his brow furrowed. "Thank you, Mr. Gladue. You have shown yourself to be useful yet again." He turned back to Marlowe, a sweet, disarming smile on his face that made Raph want to hurl. "I'm afraid, my dear daughter, that this is goodbye." He gave her an exaggerated bow and laughing, walked out with the balding, sweating Mr. Gladue close on his heels.

"Finally. I've been lookin' forward to this for a long time." Weasel sneered, cracking his knuckles against the butt of his gun. "Boss never said we couldn' have some fun before we take 'em out. Thought the boss would never leave."

"Me neither." Raph grinned.

The three grunts looked to each other, confused by the turtle's confidence. When he pulled his now free hands from behind his back, that confusion slowly turned into fear.

Jared paced his father's office, more nervous than any ten year old had a right to be. How should he brooch the subject of his father's sordid past? How could he put his mother through it? He stopped pacing then and looked at her, seated in one of the soft, leather chairs facing Preston's desk. She looked old to him for the first time in his life. The corners of her mouth dropped down in a deep frown and lines creased her forehead. The weight of hiding her husband's secret was aging her.

He stood behind her and placed a hand on her shoulder, receiving a sad smile in return. Both jumped, Susan standing and turning to face the door as it opened. Preston walked in, all smug confidence and false smiles. It was then that Jared realized he hated his father. He hated the man his father pretended to be and he hated the man his father wanted him to be.

"I know, Father." He blurted, unable to think clearly and unable to hold any of it it. "I know that I have a sister out there that you deny." He watched his father's face darken, but he didn't stop. "I know that you were cheating on Mother and I can imagine that you still are." He heard his mother gasp softly behind him, though he could hardly imagine that she didn't know. "You're a fake, Father. You don't care about me or mom. The only thing you care about is your business and how the world sees you."

"Susan, you've been telling stories again, haven't you?" Preston walked to his wife, calm once again on his face, and kissed her lightly on the cheek. "I told you he has a very over active imagination."

"It's not a story." Jared said, almost pouting. He was smart, but he was still 10. His emotions weren't entirely under his control. "I know there's a girl out there who's my half-sister and I saw her. She has our eyes."

Preston kept his plastic smile and kneeled down to his son's level. "Well, don't worry about it Son. It's being taken care of."

"Oh God." Susan moaned and Jared turned his eyes to her in time to watch her sink into the leather chair. "You've found her, haven't you, Preston? You're going to kill that poor girl, aren't you?" The absolute anguish in her voice cut at Jared. "I-I can't take this."

"If you know what's good for you, dear, you'll take it and keep it to yourself." Preston stood staring at his wife with an almost mechanical expression. "It's being taken care of, and that's all either of you need to know. Now," he turned back to his son. "Don't you have homework to do? Susan, dear, why don't you take our son home."

Susan rose, her face pale and her hands shaking. She walked to her son and placed a hand on his shoulder, leading him to the door. Jared followed, watching his father over his shoulder. An idea struck him, and he realized it was time to practice his acting skills. If he had any... He tried to school his face into an expression of defeat, and catching his father's triumphant grin as his office door closed, Jared thought he had pulled it off. He held tightly to his mother as the walked through the office building and down to the parking complex. It was now or never.

"Go home, mom. There's something I need to check on." He broke from his mother, cringing at the horrified look on her face. "I have to mom."

She nodded, licking her lips and squeezing her hands together nervously. "Okay... Okay. But, be careful Jared. You're all I have." Susan lightly placed a hand on her son's cheek before turning away.

Taking a deep breath and swallowing past the lump in his throat, Jared took off. He remembered a door down in the lower level of the parking complex that he had found while exploring as a child. He remembered it being marked RESTRICTED with bold red letters. As a child, he never thought anything of it. Now though, now he thought it was suspicious. It took him some time to find the door, and his palms were covered in sweat was he turned the brass knob. It wasn't locked. That surprised him. Though, it wouldn't be if his father had come through here recently in a hurry. Holding his breath, he was about to pull the door open.

He fell back with a small yelp as the door was pushed open hard. He landed on his back, his head striking the cement and sending bright sparks of pain flooding his vision. He lay there, holding his head and was aware of a pair of hands hesitantly touching his shoulders and arms. He opened his eyes, his vision swimming slowly. The dizziness passed quickly but a dull throb continued to echo through his head when he was able to see the face staring down at him. Her eye was swollen and one cheek was turning purple, but it was her. The girl from the alley. His sister.

She smiled at him, relief evident in her eyes. She stood and offered a hand to him which he took, standing a bit unsteadily. She held his shoulders, keeping him stead. She was sixteen or seventeen, he knew, and he was already tall enough to look her in the eyes. He thought she was pretty, with only a faint touch of their father in her features. And those eyes. It was definitely her. "Hi." He stammered.

"Yeah yeah, 'nuff said. We gotta get outta here." For the first time Jared realized he and his sister weren't alone.

Jared turned to face the voice and his eyes went wide. He thought he'd hit his head harder than it seemed at first. In front of him stood something he swear he'd seem in an old Sci-Fi flick late at night when he should have been in bed. He moved his mouth, but no sound came out. His head was starting to spin again and he found it hard to breath. He saw his sister and the thing lunge at him before everything went black.

Leonardo watched the scene around the warehouse through a pair of binoculars on a rooftop a safe distance away. They had heard the explosion and immediately made their way there. The place was already swarming with cops, firemen, and even a couple news crews. There was nothing to say that Raphael had been there, or Marlowe, but somehow Leo just knew. Call it Ninja Intuition. He brought the binoculars down and handed them back to Donatello.

"What do you think, Leo?" The purple banded turtle asked.

"He was here. And I don't like the look of that explosion."

"You think he's still in there?" Mikey asked.

Leo shook his head. "No. If he were, they would have found him by now and there would be a lot more commotion down there." He stood, moving to the center of the roof and a more out of sight position. "He was there and he got out. I just wish I could say it was under his own power."

"What are you saying?" Don asked. "Do you think that whoever was responsible for the explosion may have taken Raph?"

Mikey chuckled. "Not surprised. Raphy's always getting himself in trouble."

"This is serious, Mike. Don, do you know the address for that office building Marlowe's father owns?"

"Yeah. Why? You think he might be there?"

Leo shrugged, determination on his face. "He might not be, but it's the best shot we have right now."


End file.
